And the glass won't be parting
by AnaFoxy
Summary: This is the sequel of Nothing You Can Spend. Mary and Edward are stuck on the island. Their complicated relationships go from one extreme to the other, but she sees he becomes better under her influence and trusts him her deepest secrets. Life will be throwing them apart but each time their paths would meet.Would he change before he loses her? And will the glass be really parting?
1. Scars of our hearts

**Hello, everyone!**

**Yeah, I know, I know, I told you this part would be called "To make you who you are", but I've changed my mind *shrug*  
Aaaand...Kiddway adventures continue and I've tried to make this chapter both funny and sad, we'll see how I succeded in this. I do hope you'll like the start of the new part and wait for your opinions!**

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1

Scars of our hearts

_Day 1_

My feet are chilled. I think this very fact was the one to wake me up. I slowly open my eyes and it takes me some seconds to recall in what trouble my body got stuck this time. Aye, we are on a deserted island and it's dark because we've found our shelter in the cave. The bonfire has died long ago. There are wry rays of light penetrating though the "door" – Anne's amazing find to use a huge piece of bark to keep the wind out of our "home". And yes, my feet got chilled. And that is probably the only part of me that feels cold as the man's warm body keeps me in his tight possession hugging me from behind.

Edward. I slightly turn my head backwards. He's still deep in sleep, peacefully snuffling and smacking his lips. Like a babe. It's so funny. I smile and carefully, not to wake him, set my hand free from his to stroke away several blond strands that have fallen across his eyes. The day couldn't start any better.

But I'm so hungry, it seems I've never been hungrier. I delicately lift his arm, that is wrapped around me, and rest it on the leaves beside him. He huskily mutters something, turns on his side but I'm already free and he seems not too disturbed to wake up. Good work.

I walk up to our improvised rack to take off my pants and coat from there. Happily they are already dry. Everybody else is still sleeping and I try to be quiet not to wake them up. I put on my clothes in silence and then feel someone's stare. I look around and see that Israel has woken up as well and now is looking at me. He whispers a smiling good morning and I return it to him after what he lifts himself up and starts putting his shirt on. Very quietly he asks of what I'm going to do and if I want to keep him company in finding the shellfishes he has left somewhere on the beach yesterday and also to search for more food while the others are sleeping. The same quiet I agree and also offer to try finding a spring of potable water if there's one on this island. If not…Hell we're in then.

We leave the cave and appear on the glade squinting at the sudden light. The day is dull and the sky is lowering but it doesn't seem like forthcoming storm. Maybe it's about five or six o'clock, but it's hard to tell, though I can say for sure it's going to be evening soon. It shocks me – we've been sleeping for about twelve hours!

It's warm but fresh and I inhale one of my most favorite smells of all – the smell of rain. Israel sends a smirk watching me slowly breathing the air – in and out – and then nods at the beach across the glade, giving a sign to follow him. I do and as we go turn my head in different direction every now and then so to take a better observation of the island. As I was looking at it from the ship before jumping into the water I only ticked it in my mind that it is not very large – jungles encompassed with a circle of grassy glades which is then encompassed with sandy beaches and only then with water. As I observe it now I note frequent birds' and monkeys' screams from the jungles and a small stream flowing out of them. Holy Christ, there _is _portable water in here.

The tide is tranquil now but the night's huge waves supplied the shore with all sorts of seafood – shellfishes, simple random fishes, crabs and eels. The only thing we have to do now is pick it all up and that's exactly what we're doing moving further and further from the cove and talking on different surface topics. The more we talk the more Israel reminds me of Ben, they are both of the same type of men – logical, intelligent and balanced and I enjoy spending time in his company. I'm glad it was he to wake up earlier than others and to offer me going for food with him.

He tells me of how he made it to the shore and I tell him of my salvation in return. He enquires of how I became what I became – strong woman, then only female captain in West Indies and a fearsome pirate. I tell him a lot, but adroitly avoid details of my childhood, of my husband and other personal information. And I ask him about his life, about his father and how they both appeared to be pirates. A lot about Thatch, a lot about their adventures and about their friendship. To put it shortly I discover more of Israel during our walk than I've ever discovered during all these previous months since he became a captain. Without telling too much about myself though. My favorite layout.

Talking on and on we don't even notice how far we've gone and soon we stop on the opposite side of the island. We are both dragging our coats full of booty – enough to have a good dinner. Then I realize we haven't eaten a thing for almost twenty-four hours, since the yesterday evening before leaving for the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ and my stomach echoes with approving indignation. So we head back to the cove keeping chatting on and on. When we make almost the half-way Israel stops to span his coat more comfortably over his shoulder. I'm just dragging mine along the sand leaving a steady line behind me so I wait for him and we continue our way back and our conversation.

"So…" – Israel oddly stretches the edge of his mouth as if not knowing from what side to find a way to some slippery question – "…you and Edward…"

"Not gonna talk 'bout it" – I cut him short with a smile that is more of a warning and he shakes his head smirking.

"Still...I'm just curious what's his secret"

"Secret? What d'you mean? We all have secrets"

"Aye, but I'm talking about a different kind of secret. It's just – there you are roaring and accusing, looking like you gonna kill each other at the spot" – he shrugs with calm interest – "and next morning you wake up tight in his arms…"

"Oh this. Ya've heard our little before-the-sleep argument then"

"Mary" – Israel looks at me with irony – "it must have been heard back in Nassau, not to mention the small cove we were in"

"Well…ehm" – I halter not knowing how to put aside this topic without being too harsh with him – "It's a veto topic, Israel, no offence"

"None taken. I just wonder why he is so special. Being a greedy jerk and still managing to keep such a strong-willed and determined woman by his side. What's so captivating in him? Pretty face and enormous conceit? No question – he is a distinguished pirate but to call himself a Pirate King…"

"…He ain't calling himself a Pirate King" – I snap feeling the tide of irritation rising in me – "My own crew called 'im a Pirate King in first place long before I revealed my true identity, an' this title annoys him, so stop accusing and mind ya own life, Hands" - I hasten speed but a short chuckle from behind makes me turn back waggling my brows up – "what? what's so funny?"

"It's funny that actually you are extremely reasonable woman, Mary, but one needs only to say something wrong about captain Kenway and you turn into Calypso. He surely must have a secret, because I honestly don't get it why you're so weak about him when it is clear both for you and me that he's an ill choice. What's this secret? Tricks in bed? Or you just prefer scoundrels to decent men?" - he answers with the same soft smile enduring my glare – "You know, Mary, relationships can be much easier, much calmer and much more stable. It's not always living on volcano and living on volcano is precisely what you do with this man. Relationship can bring peace into your heart instead of tearing it apart like he does. I got plenty of time to see it"

The only thing I want right now is to punch Israel in the stomach or, which I'd prefer better, between his legs. But I'm trying to keep myself in hand and manage with glaring and gritted teeth while he's just smiling softly.

He puts his nose in wrong business, his words bring fury, they bring a wish to smash something and they are…fair. At some point. But this concerns only Edward and me. It's not his business. I make few steps forward shooting my finger at him.

"My relationships with Edward or anybody else, Hands, alon' with my sex life, shouldn't wrinkle ya nose at fucking all" – I utter firmly – "As for Edward – he is what he is, an' I won't be losing time trying to convince you he's a good man, though I surely know much more 'bout him than you do and you have no right to judge 'im when ya don't know the whole story" – I come closer and my finger stabs into his chest – "try to raise this topic one more time and I will stop calling ya my friend and if you _keep_ raising it even so – I'll fuck ya and not literally. Understand?"

He only gives a scoff. Shifting his eyes down to my finger and then back to my face he looks down at me with calm lenience and this is annoying. He lifts his hand and brushes mine away.

"We're grown-up people, Mary, we can talk instead of fighting. No need to threaten me when I just wanted to give you a friend's advice"

For several seconds more I keep my stubborn burning stare at him but then rashly turn round. Probably he's right, but the knowledge of it doesn't really make me calmer, it doesn't calm the frustration down anyway. I'm walking with my heavy steps back to the cove, almost ready to run but the coat-sack with food slows me down. Israel serenely follows. The rest of the way is spent in silence and when we reach the grassy glade before the cove I see everybody else has already woken up.

Vane and Jack are trying to make a bonfire and there is a carcass of a deer lying on the ground which Anne is trying to skin. Emily is helping her and Edward is standing near the entrance into the cove leaning the rock with his back and playing with a hidden blade pulling it in and out.

"Mary!" – he reveals a devilish smirk and makes several steps in my direction – "I've been wondering where you are"

"Missed me?" – I croak while throwing my burden closer to the fire and pouring its contents out of the coat – "Ain't ya a sweet princess, Kenway"

"I see you're in your best shitty mocking mood today, Read" – he answers in the same tune and then gestures at the deer – "see this? _I _caught it"

"Really? Waiting for a candy, sweetie?" – I tease him nodding to giggling Anne and Emily, sending a hello smile to Jack and Vane and completely ignoring Israel.

"Oh, you're cruel, woman"

"And ya're so modest, man"

While all the others are busy with cooking Vane, Edward and I head to the load to finally open it and see what useful things we'll manage to find there. Edward is grinning all the way, surely proud of himself that he was the only one to take precautions of being marooned and that we all now must be thankful to him. Charles is joking about it all the way and I'm just rolling my eyes. I come up to the load first and ask for the knife as I've left my hidden blades and all the weapon inside the cove and Edward gives me one. I swiftly tear the ropes and soon they are lying in a heap aside and I start to open tightly nailed boxes. It's not really easy and Edward tells me to step aside coming over with a blade. He thrusts it into tiny clinks and with great force pulls it up. Muscles are flexing on his arms, the sight is tempting and I briskly turn my eyes away feeling my mouth watering.

He moves to the next box and I take a sit on my knees to see what's inside the first one.

"Rum? Seriously?!"

"Rum?!" – Vane, who has been smoking his pipe all this time, runs up to the box with round eyes – "Rum!" – he turns to Edward, eyes round, stretching his hands for a comrade hug – "Oh holly molly, Edward Kenway, you're the most wonderful bastard ever!"

"Heh, I know, I know" – Edward chuckles from Vane's hugs and purses his lips in touched expression.

"Edward" – I say absolutely seriously – "couldn't you put somethin' really useful?! Blankets, some long-lastin' food, spare clothes I don't know! Something more necessary than rum!"

"Oh yeah" – he tilts his head with the same smug expression – "I've put this as well, search in the other boxes"

"Rum…" – I grumble – "always fucking rum…bloody drunkards"

The comrade hug has parted and muttering some song to his nose Charles takes two bottles out of the box and tosses one to Edward. I lean to the next box and see the same picture there – from top to bottom it is filled with rum bottles.

"Kenway" – I sigh and he frowns coming over.

"Oh no, not this one, look in the others. There has to be one more with rum and other three with some dull domestic stuff"

"Dull domestic stuff?! Seriously?! Are you going to be plastered all this time we're stuck in here?!"

"Well…eeehm…"

"YES" – Charles finishes for him and Edward shrugs nodding.

"You may join us in this, Mary" – he winks at me and I roll my eyes – "you seem quite…ehhm…highly strung recently. I'm sure that's exactly what you need – to let yourself free"

I give a snort thinking of how beautiful it would be to just smash one of these bottles on his head and start unpacking four left boxes. I put everything I find out and lay in an even row on the ground. Edward and Vane are watching my work taking sips from their bottles every now and then while it starts to get dark and crickets resume their chirring anew. As I've expected everything besides rum is dumped into the boxes without any hint of order. It's Edward, I'm not even surprised. Soon everything lies at my feet and I observe the findings once again before putting them back into boxes, but now in order, so it would be easy to find every single thing without rummaging about.

"So…" – I start counting – "three boxes of rum…"

"Aye" – Edward salutes his bottle and I roll my eyes once again. I've noticed I do this too often recently, maybe I'm really too nervous and need to relax?

"…four blankets" – I choose one I find most comfortable – warm and soft and clean – and put it aside – "this is mine"

"And mine" – Edward adds and I squint at him before continuing.

"No, mine only"

"Mary…" – now Edward rolls his eyes – "think it yourself – there are seven of us, right? Right. And only four blankets. Jack and Anne will surely take a single one, then Emily can share hers with Charles or with Hands. The one she won't be sharing her blanket with will take one more blanket and then there is one left – I hope you'll share yours with me, I got tired of leaves sticking to me in my sleep and my feet are highly sensitive to cold"

"Hah, don't ya think I may choose Charlie or Israel? So cock-sure once again…"

"No, no, no, Read" – Vane interferes – "No offence to your sweet pretty arse but I won't lie with you not for love or money, I love my balls too much, what if I accidentally touch you? You'll cut them at once! Kenway seems to have more access to you so…I really can't get it why he's still alive by the way" – he chuckles.

"all right…" – I sigh retreating – "The blanket is yours as well, Kenway…then…three pair of pants, three shirts…ehm…some underwear…"

"Only mine" – Edward notes and I chuckle.

"Oh fuck, really?! I was just about to ask you to lend me ya pretty knickers"

"They wouldn't suit you anyways…sorry"

I shoot him sarcastic glance and get back to counting:

"…two plates, two pans, three pots, sack of salt, bag of seasoning, sack of tea, threads and needle, three blocks of soap, mirror, dice, _guitar…" – _I cast Edward one more sarcastic glance.

"You can't imagine how boring it is to be stuck on island, Mary" – he shakes his head with a smile.

"Aye, the guitar will do, at least something to keep the mind sound" – Vane adds.

"all righty… pen and inkpot, blank sheets of paper, lon' piece of rope aaaand that's probably all. Not bad, Kenway. Now lets drag it closer to our home, lads"

Vane finishes his rum and throws the bottle away onto the sand warming up his neck and taking the nearest box with alcohol. He heads back to the cave leaving us face to face with each other. And this is embarrassing. We haven't been returning to our night fight's matter so far and while we're still hungry I don't think we should do this. I'm putting all the stuff back into the boxes for transportation without looking at Edward. The atmosphere seems uneasy and I want it badly to scream out into his face «the hell, Kenway, it's me, stop being so tensed and let's fucking take it easy», but, of course, I can't afford myself to do this. The smell of frying meat reaches us and I feel my mouth watering again. We can talk everything over after dinner. Or maybe we shouldn't really talk about this at all? Why not? We can act like nothing has really happened…like we always do. There's so much we haven't told each other or just decided to forget and not to tell. It's not right but it's much easier this way. Easier for living, but not good for relationships. I simply don't know already what this is between us. Friendship and love and hate – and everything at the same time. Fucking great. Life wasn't enough hard for you, Mary, was it? Why not adding one more problem?! Phah.

"Hey, there is one thing you've left behind" – Edward disturbs my mind from heavy thoughts and my eyes from staring into boxes while filling them. He puts his hand into the box on top and takes out a book. I bet I look like it isn't a book but a dancing jellyfish he has just pulled out – "Well, I-" – he halters looking oddly embarrassed – "I just had a thought maybe oneday we'll be marooned together and…well…you like books, don't you? Thought you'd be happy to have something to read…and eeehm…just take it, all right?" – he rubs the back of his neck offering the book – "I hope you'd like it, sorry if it's not of your taste" – he shrugs still rubbing his neck.

I take the book from his hand and observe it. And a soft smile touches my lips.

"One Thousand and One Nights" - I look at him. He still looks so embarrassed.

"Aye…bought it on my way back from Africa, in one small fishing town, there was a merchant travelling to Boston, he stopped there as well to restore water. Was trying to sell me some cheap milksop poor stuff, said «your lady will surely like it» but when I said my lady is rather special and prefers only the best things he offered me this one. It was expensive…though I probably shouldn't tell you this…aaaaanyways, I just need to shut up right now I reckon" – Edward finishes frequently blinking as if wishing to slap himself. I don't remember him being this confused ever before. And it's funny.

"Edward, are ya nervous?"

"Nervous? Who? I?" – he gives a strained feigned chuckle – "No, no, I'm not nervous, I'm just just…" – he stops trying to choose write words but finally gives a groan sauntering back and forth – "Argh!...so, aahm…it's just you're pissed with and I'm trying this again…to be close to you, but you… maybe you don't even want this but _I _want this and now I think you'll beat me for my tries again and…ehhm…" – he takes a deep breath and stops – "so…don't listen to me…I just hope you haven't read it"

"I have actually"

"Oh…" – Edward purses his lips – "then just don't…"

"And I love it…" – I lift myself up and come up to him – "…and I would read it again with great pleasure" – I'm looking up at him and he's looking down at me. I'm smiling and his look softens and loses the ends of embarrassment – "It's nice ya've thought about me"

"I always think about you" – he simply answers with warmth but then his face slightly darkens – "we are best friends, aren't we?"

"Aye" – I put my hand on his collarbone gently rubbing it and his eyes widen - "we are"

"Mary…"

"Shhh" – my other hand goes down his chest but in perfect time shifts its way to rest on his hipline. A muffled sigh slips his lips.

"Mary…don't torture me if you have no intentions to go till the end" – Edward whispers, his beautiful ocean-blue eyes looking straight into mine entreatingly.

I ignore it and whilst my left hand is rubbing his collarbone and chest my right hand moves from his hipline to stroke his thigh. He tosses his head back closing his eyes and this time his sigh is deeper and angrier. I'm driving him mad, and I like it. And I want it.

"What are you doing with me…" – he mutters barely audible, his hands rise and freeze an inch from my waist. He's trying to suppress himself and keep distance respecting my personal space and our friendship agreement. I wrap my hand round his neck and thrust fingers into his hair, carefully but firmly I clutch it making his head bent down to me and look into my eyes.

"Your care turns me on…" – I whisper – "Who said friends cannot have sex?" – I give him shitty smirk openly enjoying the disarray on his face.

"yeah… really…who the hell said that" – he brokenly gulps down.

"Just sex of two best friends…"

"Aye, friendly sex…there is nothing wrong in that"

"Really, nothing…"

"Yeah..."

I take his hand and lead him into the dusky jungles. I don't care what I'm doing, I just want it, I just need it, need him.

"And what of dinner? Ain't you starving?" – I look back at him with the same smirk, but his face is serious and I stop.

"First we can make it fast and then…after the dinner" – I return back to him, wrap my arms round his waist smiling with challenge – "…we can have sex all night until neither of os can move"

Edward looks stunned, hypnotized, as if not believing this is really happening.

"Oi, let's do that" - his answers blankly – "damn…only one book and such an effect…phew…Mary, I'll give you the whole library then…"

He clutches my waist but I sneak away with laughter. I'm running; running through the thick wall of jungles with his hard breath following me behind; laughing all the way; and I'm laughing as I've never laughed before; as light-hearted as I've never been; this man is my hunter, but at the same time my prey.

He catches me and we fall down into the soft growth of bushes.

Our friendship…I like it…I so damn like it.

* * *

_Day 4_

No sails on the horizon, no ships, no fishing schooners – nothing. The atmosphere is comfortable and cozy though. Anne, Emily and I are trying to keep some sort of schedule. It helps to maintain discipline, to stay focused and have at least some purpose while staying in here. Laziness has tendency to turn into the feeling of doom, of melancholy and as a result it manifests itself in irritability and aggression. We don't need this. That's why we need a sharp schedule of every day's activities and watch for everyone to be working or at least doing something besides lying on the sand and sleeping all day long.

The first night we spent awake. Don't know what of others but Edward and I for sure. Then we started trying to follow the sleep pattern and woke everyone up no later than about ten o'clock in the morning. Men grumbled about it but we were persistent. It's funny how the pot of cool water makes things much easier. Now they have already got used to it. Then we have breakfast. There is a golden rule everyone has to obey – to store food for breakfast before going to sleep.

After breakfast we all scatter throughout the island searching for food. I usually prefer hunting, and prefer doing it alone, hate people disturbing me when I'm trailing the prey. Sometimes Edward goes with me, but I insist on hunting separately and, though not content with it, he agrees. Anne usually stays in our camp. She sweeps the dirty sand out of the cave and the new one in, changes leaves and ferns for our beds and prepares everything for cooking. She is probably our leader in here, big mama, to call it. Makes arrangements, controls everything, keeps order followed, cheers up and encourages everyone. Emily and I do it also, but we're mostly helping while Anne stays a real center of power anyways.

When everyone is back in the camp with all the obtained food we start cooking. Thanks to Edward, we have a wide variety of dishes every day – we have pans and pots and salt and seasoning and tee. This keeps everyone pumped up. After lunch is free time when everyone can do whatever he wants and most of the time Edward and I slip away into jungles for training and…not training. Though I insist on training first and if he stays focused and does everything diligently he gets his prize.

His Sense is perfect, I've never seen such a strong natural Sense and using it is like breathing for him. Mine is natural too, I have it for my whole life but it wasn't as perfect as his when I joined the assassins and I had to spend years sharpening it. The only problem he has is disorientation which appears when he uses the Sense for long but I'm sure we will get rid of it soon. Besides this I'm working on his stalking skills and usually his task is pretty simple - catch me before I notice him. Hadn't succeeded in this so far but we keep training though he already starts to get mad about it. He has great endurance and he is very strong, but not really swift or agile and this is my advantage as I always manage to sneak away from him when we practice trailing.

So…at a whole I even like being stuck here. We all became much closer to each other, even Vane and Jack started to get along. And when the night falls a great time begins – we play the guitar, dice games, sing, dance, chat, drink and play different silly games nobody of us has been playing since childhood – like blind man's buff, hide-and-seek and tags. It's so childish, I know…we're fearful pirates and stuff but…we have to somehow spend our time, right?

And Israel has been making no attempts to resume that topic we had a fight about. So far. Maybe he has put it aside. No matter what, he keeps distance with me allowing himself no more than Jack and Charlie. Simple comrade interaction. Though every morning, while Edward is still sleeping, Israel and I talk a lot outside the cave drinking morning tea and every conversation is enjoyable, the lad knows a lot.

And yeah! The most important thing – we've hidden rum from men while they were asleep and each evening we distribute only one bottle per person. No one gets plastered = no one tries to start a deadly brawl = everyone's safe and sound. And everyone's happy. Well…almost.

* * *

_Day 5_

During our trainings we've ran across an amazing place. I just wanted to check how Edward's Sense works underwater and there was one mysterious opening in rocks not far from the shore so we dived into it wondering what we'll find in the end. What we've found was beach surrounded with high rocks all around and having a gap in the ceiling which let the light in. Guess we've finally found the place for only the two of us. I've noticed an interesting thing – the less we talk about our relationships and the more we make love = the more easily we get along. Though Edward keeps asking me if I marry him every single day. Of course he gets only rejections, but his tries are nice and become more and more intricate each day.

* * *

_Day 6_

"Hey, Mary, how do you think why our ships are so late? What could happen?"

Edward lazily asks in between planting light kisses along my belly and up to my bosom. We've just finished our usual afternoon training session and made ourselves comfortable on our secured beach.

"I don't know"

My hand is blankly playing with his hair while my eyes are directed into the book which I'm trying hard to read. Sun penetrates through the gap in the stony ceiling. Its rays are playing on my naked skin without reaching my face. I feel drowsy. It becomes harder and harder to resist falling asleep.

"Maybe the storm caught them and they are stuck on some island themselves" – Edward suggests passing on lower – "maybe they are repairing…"

"Maybe" – I answer following the page lines and yawning.

"maybe they've boarded _Queen Anne _but it wasn't without a severe fight…" – he squeezes my hips reaching to the most secret place and I can't hold a sigh inside.

"Maybe…" – I close my eyes for a moment and the book slips out my hands and lands on my chest. I enjoy the sensation of feelings he gives with his delicate touches while my hands are scratching the sand and it is pouring out my clenched fists till my body arches with bright delight.

"Edward?" – I finally regain ability to speak distinctly.

"Hmmm?" – He lifts his head with question in his eyes and adds with smug smile – "I'm great, am I not?"

"The best…" – I sigh – "are ya ready now?"

He puffs shaking his head and flops down on the sand near me.

"Nope, not yet"

"All right" – I rise on my elbows and lean over to thank him with gentle kiss, but he prefers to prolong it and I'm all for. Finally I draw back, we are both smiling and I touch his lips with mine one last time before going back to the book resting my head on his chest.

"Mary?"

"Hmph?" – I open the book basing it on his stomach and resume reading from where I've stopped.

"Let's talk"

"'bout what?" – I yawn.

"don't know…let's just talk, I like talking to you, almost as much as making love"

"We don't make love, Edward, we simply fuck" - I'm reading the same sentence for the fifth time and nothing of it lingers in my memory.

"A-ha, course" – he gives a snort and continues in a mocking manner – "«No feelings, just sex, Edward, simple friendly sex, don't give a shit if you feel something and don't give a shit if _I _feel something as well, we just fuck and nothing more»"

I sigh noisily and shut the book. Here we talk about our relationships again – and here the fight starts.

"Stop it" – I snap and slightly hit his stomach with the book.

"Stop what?"

"Making it complicated, enjoy what you have, or maybe ya got tired of simply fucking? If so we can stop it" – I challenge, rising on my elbow and sending him a glare which he returns in double – "What?! C'mon, let's stop it! Why not?!"

His face stays frustrated and angry but I hold the look. And so does he. I'm waiting for him to shift his eyes first but he keeps it firm and seems not going to yield to me. His stubbornness gets on my nerves. I'm not going to yield as well. And so we keep glaring at each other, eyes into eyes, both obstinate as two mules. Gradually his face softens and his hand rises to stroke my face which I still keep the same stubborn.

"Mary, I have an offer for you"

"What? «Will you marry me, Mary?» No!"

"No, not this" – he keeps enduring my glare and his face becomes mischievous – "If this what we do is just sex, without any feelings, then why don't you try this with Vane or Hands? I'm sure they'll like it, this downer Hands especially"

I keep looking at him for a moment longer and then flop my head back on his chest with a groan rewarding him with a punch of my fist but he stops it and cushions the blow.

"I hate ya"

"You love me" – Edward lazily croaks.

I yielded to him. Once again. For the thousand's time. I yield to no one. Never. To no one but bloody Edward Kenway. It's a mystery I'll never solve.

"Ready now? – I grumble.

"Nope, still not, let's talk" – he presses my palm against his and we are blankly staring at how mine is smaller than his.

"Don't wanna talk, wanna…" – I raise my brows at him making an absolute transparent hint and he smirks.

"You'll get no satisfaction if I'm not ready, so shut up and let's talk"

"fine…let's talk…" – I sigh – "tell me 'bout something"

"Nooope, Mary. You already know all my secrets" – he chuckles.

"Like… Jane Collins the first girl you've ever kissed?" – I start tick it off on my fingers counting – "Lon' scar on the back of your thigh you've left when accidentally hit yaself with a whip while tried to stop the bolted horse?...Pamela Longbourn the first girl you've bedded, wasn't pretty but you liked her tits…eeehm…oh yeah! First time you met Caroline, how you lived together, how she left you, your regrets, ya life in Wales, ya life in England, how you hated ya pastoral work" – I take my breath and shift counting to my toes – "how ya hated working in navy, meaning of ya every tattoo, why you named _Jackdaw _jackdaw, ya favorite color, ya favorite song, ya favorite smell, ya favorite dish, your losses, your lasses" – I breathe out noisily – "phew…and I can continue on and on till not only my fingers and toes are bent, but yours as well" – I smirk – "I can start writing your memoirs already"

Edward gives a whistle.

"none of my friends knew this much about me, but…what am I talking 'bout, even my mum didn't know about me as much as you do, Mary"

"didn't?"

"Aye…" – suddenly his voice becomes serious and I lift myself up to look at him – "she died when I was sixteen"

"I'm sorry, Edward, I-…"

"no need" – he brushes away and smiles at me – "she would like you"

"Have serious doubts 'bout it" – I snort with a smirk.

"No really, believe me. She was the strongest woman I know - sharp-tongued, sarcastic, never let men rule…I remember she always had that look" – he giggles and continues – "when I did something bad or started getting on her nerves - she crossed her hands on her chest and raised her brow looking so threatening that I always felt a stab of guilt. Was afraid to cross the threshold of the kitchen. Then she was giving that all-forgiving smirk, her eyes, still sharp were becoming a bit softer, she stretched her hands towards me and then I had no more fear to come in and lay all the truth out before her…" – he halters for a moment, his eyes are far away in memories and a bitter smile on his face – "…I just knew she would always understand me…no matter I am right or wrong…no matter what bullshit I've done; she wasn't justifying me, no, never let me get away with something I was truly guilty in…but she understood; lectured me, of course; gave her advice…and punishment; when we were done I even felt I deserved this punishment...and she always tried to conceal what I've done from my father, when she could of course; she was…" – he drops his eyes gulping down brokenly and I'm just listening to him saying nothing, giving him time to fully speak through – "…she was the best woman in the world" – Edward finishes, his eyes become focused on me, he thins his lips and slightly nods to his thoughts. At last he ends with a wry smile – "She used to tell my every lass was no smarter than our sheep, so…believe me, Mary, she would love you. To be honest…you have a lot in common. And you…" – he pauses for a moment as if not knowing whether he should say it but finally makes up his mind – "…you remind me of her"

I stay silent for a while, just looking at him and not knowing what to say after such a serious confession. Finally I give a soft delicate smile but sound lecturing:

"Thanks, Kenway. Now each time before rejecting your proposal I'd be thinking of ya mother"

"Heh, that was the plan" – he lifts himself up and I stream to meet his kiss half a way.

A little while after I ask against his lips:

"Why did she die?"

He draws back with a smack, his smile withers but I stroke his face and it returns but in a bitter way.

"She was with a child and this pregnancy killed her" – his gloomy answer – "everything was all right first, she was so happy, wanted a girl so much and then...she just died. From fever. The girl passed away two days after"

"And what's with ya father?"

He sighs.

"Well ehhhm… it was a hard blow. He seemed so calm, so restrained that it pissed me off. Growing older I realize he was deep in grief himself, in his own way but his way, he loved her so much, this I remember well. And that time…I was beside myself with mum's death, accused him in everything, couldn't accept that it was something inevitable, something that no one could foresee. I blamed him for…you know…making this child…that mum wasn't really young by then and he could have guessed this pregnancy might kill her…that he could…well, spill it all out…I just…I know I was bastard for telling him all this, he knew it himself at first place and this was killing him…and there was his son…throwing it straight into his face…To put is shortly we almost didn't talk with each other after that...I was doing my part of work, he was doing his. Then in a year I met Caroline, we got married and I rented a house of my own. Since then…we have never seen each other. And probably never will"

Edward shifts his eyes for a second just to return them looking at me again. He wrinkles his nose and gives a smacking bitter smirk.

"Yeah…now tell me «what a fucking bastard you are, Kenway», I won't be offended, really"

I give him a long impenetrable stare after what pull him into a sitting position. Sitting on our knees I wrap my hands around his neck and bury my face into his shoulder feeling his face hiding in my hair.

"Wasn't even goin' to. You were young and in pain. Don't blame yaself" – I draw back and look at him with serious air – "but you have to write to 'im, Edward. Once we're back on Great Inagua. Tell 'im you're safe and sound, apologize and ask if he needs any help. I know you're afraid the location of your island will be revealed but you may note assassin's headquarters in Nassau as the back address so he could answer, I'll talk about it with Rhona so she wouldn't mind" – he hems agreeing but not confidently enough and I lift his chin up forcing him to look into my eyes – "Promise me, Edward"

He lingers for a second and then the edge of his mouth draws higher revealing a small smirk.

"I promise"

"Good boy" – I return into our tight hugs – "Thanks for telling me this. For trusting me this much"

"You see now, I was just kidding telling I want five children" – he quietly says into my hair – "I would never risk you this much, my best friend ever"

I draw back and give him a short, but heartfelt kiss.

"Best friends ever" – I acknowledge reflecting his smile.

Suddenly he punches my side laughing:

"Hey! How there hell you're doing this?! I wanted _you_ to tell me something about your life! But eventually _I _was the one to talk once again! So, come on, it's your turn to talk now" – he tries to pull me down on sand but I resist and fully stand pulling him up instead.

"Tomorrow maybe, time to go, the dinner wouldn't cook itself. I can't make love after such talks anyways, so, c'mon"

"Nailed down! Tomorrow you won't wriggle out"

"Not going to. You trust me the most personal things then I trust you the same"

"Best friends ever?"

"Best friends ever"

"Will you marry me?"

"eeeehm…nope"

"as I've expected…all right, where's our clothes…"

* * *

_Day 7_

"And that's…ahahahah…that's when it he happened, remember Jack?"

"yeah! Ahaha, Charles, the hell I'll forget it ever in my life, ahahaha"

" aye! So, that's when…"

"Don't tell it! No!"

"…Jack told «I swear you, one more fucking shot and one of us will go down the peer naked as a picked bone»!"

"Yeah, yeah! Who knew this guy would conk out at once and the one left would be no one but I! And all the other lads left me no freaking way to waggle out, and so…oh bloody hell, no, I'm not gonna say it"

"Heh, then I would, mate! Then he slips down his pants and everybody watch his flaring arse swaying away with a song…hey, what was that song you were singing?"

"Ahahah, yeah «When I little and naked…"

"…was running down the street…

"…one and all were touched and smiling…"

"…but now we see effect is different!»" – Jack and Vane roar together and everybody burst into thunderous laughter.

Anne is the first to come to senses. Still smiling, she rolls her eyes patting Jack on the back and he shrugs apologetically. We're having our lunch, which today consists of baked fish and seafood soup. To be precise we're already finishing.

"Oh, Jack…and why I'm not surprised" – Anne sighs and Vane rushes to add:

"That's not the whole story, Annie! Then he bumped against a nun who was just leaving some ship! A nun! Imagine!"

If anyone was about to calm down this line turned them back into hysterical laughter, I lean towards Edward, who is convulsed with guffaw himself – jolly tears in my eyes as I hide my face in his shoulder shaking with unstoppable laughter.

"Aaaaand then – Jack with his naked mast takes poor nun into hugs, tells her his name is Calico and offers to see her home! Oh, good gracious! You should have seen her face!"

While everyone writhes with laughter Emily is coughing as the bone must have stuck in her throat and Vane hurries up to clap her back. It helps and she resumes with giggling.

"Oh, Jack!" – Anne stands up, hands on her hips, and an affected accusation on her face though it is seen she hardly keeps chuckle inside.

"Annie, baby, it was so long long ago! You know it is not worth sulking for!"

"Oh, rot!" – Anne flings her arms up – "Skip it, we all know it that…" – she shoots glance at me and I smirk already knowing what she is going to say – "There is no use arguing with a man…"

"…He ain't right anyways!" – I finish and mutual laughter resumes.

My lips are tired of constant stretching. It must be everyone's problem as slowly but steadily laughter withers ending up with content hems and sighs. Edward throws the ends of his fish into our trash box and then drops his hands on his knees turning to me.

"So, you're ready?"

"Aye"

"To what?" – Charles interferes.

"Mary promised to shave me"

"Oh…everywhere?"

"No, Charles, only his face, imagine it!"

"Crap…that's no fun then!"

"Come on, Kenway, I'll make you perfect! Like goatee?"

He chuckles as we leave the bonfire. I take a mirror and a bowl with shavingfoam I've prepared in the morning and follow Edward's lead to whatever place he'll find comfortable. He stops five minutes walking to our camp and sits down onto a broken palm tree. I come up and take a sit on my knees before him starting spreading the foam all over his stubble.

"Phew, it stinks" – he mumbles.

"Shut up, I've made it especially for ya"

"Then there must be piss or poo inside"

"Very funny, that's what ya think 'bout me, huh?"

"Well, considering you've promised revenge after I kissed you in public yesterday night I-…"

"Oh yeah…how could I forget! Give me a minute…I fortunately just need to pee" – I rashly stand up jokily showing I'm ready to leave but next second returning to what I've been doing, enjoying Edward's laughter. I take a sharp knife out of my pocket and his eyes widen.

"Hope you know how to use it"

"I was married, don't forget, mah husband had a fantastic dark stubble that had an annoying quality to grow too fast and he used to insist on me shaving 'im. Said it cements relationships"

"Clever lad he was"

"Aye. And handsome. Dark curly hair and ocean-blue eyes"

"Stop, stop, stop…you've said your husband had green eyes if I remember right" – he frowns and I understand I'm an idiot. Blabbed it out without even noticing.

"Well eehm…nope, he had blue eyes" – I halter for a moment. Oh crap, no use hiding it anymore – "the same as yours. I mean, the form was different but the color…exactly the same" – I breathe out staring into this beautiful blues but then rashly drop my eyes into the bowl with foam. I'm genius. I'm fucking genius.

"Why did you…why the hell did you tell me he had green eyes then?"

"Cause I didn't want you to think I fancy you too much. That's why!" – I bark and he shuts up – "now don't move and don't talk" – I add calmly.

I slowly run the blade over the bottom of his cheek and watch short golden hair falling down the sand.

"Wait" – Edward catches my hand before I made another move and I frown at him – "just leave some here" – his finger passes around his jawline – "and over the upper lip…and a bit under the bottom one and then…"

"Kenway, I'll shave ya according to my taste, everything's all right with this?" – I look at him playing with a knife in my fingers.

"You make me tremble, Mary"

"I know" – I chuckle wickedly, taking him by the chin and sharply turning it left – "Let's make it this way - you stand it like a nice grown-up boy and I'll let you cut mah hair, deal?"

"Upper or…"

"Kenway"

"All right, all right, deal"

I raise the blade anew but he catches my hand again.

"Before I'm forced to keep my mouth shut can you please start telling me something from your past. You know, it would really calm down my nervousness before seeing what you've done with my face"

"Ya tongue is too sharp today I see, maybe I should shave it too, or maybe shorten it a bit, for instance…" – I lift my brows with kittenish face but his stays serious and I sigh – "All right…what d'you want to know?"

"Okay…lets think…you've already told me about your childhood and teenage years…hmph…now tell me about the time you had a tavern. What was its name? How you opened yourself to Will? What was your married life like? How long did it last? What happened after you knew he died? Why did you name your ship _The Prancing_? Come on. I shut my mouth and I'm all ears"

"Well" – I gather my thoughts together and start both shaving and telling – "I was nineteen when Will proposed me, was young and full of dreams… rather naïve I guess. Though I thought I had nothing of this sort in me when joined the navy, but falling in love and…being loved so much…it blew me away and I realized I wanted no more of men's life, just wanted to be his wife and mother of his children" – Edward gives a muffled hem and I sarcastically raise my brow – "aye, even if it's so hard to believe now. Keep up like this and I will tell you nothing personal ever. When _you_ was telling me ya secrets I kept my irony away"

He apologetically squints his eyes, maybe felt ashamed after my words maybe got anxious about the knife in my hand. Anyway I nod contently and continue:

"There was something special in him…something that hooked me…he wasn't like all the other soldiers of the crew…maybe it was that he had his own mind on everything, and wasn't afraid to speak it, even in front of the superiors. When he was given an order and he, himself, was thinking the order was unfair – nothing could stop 'im from fighting against executing it"

I make a pause lifting Edward's chin up to pass on to his neck and he uses the pause to ask:

"And how…"

"Shhh, I remember" – he lifts his head back up and I resume – "First I refused to admit mahself I had a soft spot for this charming Flemish soldier, but…no matter what I thought my heart forced me to follow him whenever he went, I tried to become friends with 'im and eventually we became very close…mentally I mean…"

"Like you and me?" – he takes risk muttering and it results in blade slightly scratching his skin. I swiftly take it away but the scratch gets lined with red at once – "Ouch" – Edward hisses.

"Content? You're happy it was slight" – I carefully run my tongue along the scratch and feel salt in my mouth.

"Mmm…I like it" – he murmurs.

"Licking helps stop bleeding faster, idiot" – I snap.

"Course…you're acting like a cat again" – he giggles – "so…very close mentally like you and me?"

"Closer" – I grumble and he chuckles.

"Continue, please"

"Don't say a word more" – he gives an approving hem and I return my focus on his neck – "One lucky day there were only he and I in the tent. I told him the truth about me. He thought I was jos' kidding, so I... " – I giggle feeling heat rushing to my cheeks and prudently take the knife away realizing what reaction my next words would provoke – "…I unbuttoned mah shirt and pressed his hand against my groin…"

Edward presses his lips hard trying to keep the laugh inside but as I'm giggling myself he lets it free and claps his hand against his knee.

"You've pressed his hand to your…ahahah" – he stops and bends in half.

"Heh, aye, that's exactly what I did" – I nod smirking – "Thought it would be louder than words…heh…then said something like «now you believe me?» an' somehow he really did" – Edward takes a deep breath to pull himself together, but smile is still playing on his lips when I level his face into needed position – "It was so freaking embarrassing and I wished the ground would swallow me up after that. He was shocked of course, but… he wasn't trying to mock or laugh or something of a kind. I think he jos' realized how hard it was for me to tell 'im this and so he pretended he had taken it easy. In time, however, I started noting his looks at me had changed; there was something new in them. In a month after I told him the truth about me he confessed he fell in love with me an'…" – I halter smiling to the memories. Pull Edward's head down to trim the stubble and he smiles devilishly.

"…he was your first?"

I shoot him glare but my smile gets wider betraying me:

"Aye. Then, one month passed and he proposed me. We left the Royal Navy and went to England. There, in the village not far from London we opened an inn "The Three Horseshoes"" – he squints at me and I understand his question at once – "Aye, I have a thing for horses as ya've already noticed. And I called my ship _The Prancing _in honor for the stud I was taking care of when was working as a groom for a very rich lady. She bought him for his beauty, just as all the other horses she had in her stables. But he was a real warhorse – strong and fierce. Had such a temper mmmm… kicked almost everyone, snorted, puffed, reared…but not me. Guess it was love at first sight. Everyone thought he was too uncontrollable, too rabid, but I think he was jos' choking for freedom in there, for some space and wind whistling in his ears…wanted to do what nature granted him – to run" – I sigh – "One day he kicked a young gentleman very hard, that _gentlemen_ was mah mistress' suitor, the main one, the one she had huge hopes to grasp. He wanted the horse dead and so she ordered jos' to please 'im. But before the chief groom executed the sentence I stole Prancing and run away with 'im. My mother didn't really care for what I was doing an' how long I was away from home, she was thinking only of her own private life so I wasn't afraid someone would miss me back home. I rode far into the countryside, thought of finding work there, or even finding the travelling circus who would agree to teach me how to ride well and do some tricks in exchange for taking Prancing for their show"

I make a pause remembering it all back in my memory, so bright like if it happened just yesterday…dark forest, cold mist, horse's puffing, the speed, my fear… Edward doesn't hasten me, just waits with straight face.

"Then…we were caught before the night was over. He was killed and I was beaten. That's the story…" – I sniff feeling unwanted tears coming but gulp them down. No way he sees me crying. No fucking way. I pull myself together and finish calmly – "Now he's not choking anymore, the wind follows 'im everywhere he runs and there's no one to ever stop 'im"

I draw slightly back to watch the result of my work, wipe the ends of foam with my hand and meet Edward's compassionate look. He keeps it long, just looking at me, before he finally says:

"Don't even know what to say"

"I know. People usually have nothing to say after such stories, but they have feelings - this is more important"

"You've told about to someone else?"

"'bout what? Will or Prancing?"

"'bout both"

"I've told Will 'bout Prancing. Ah Tabai and Anne know 'bout Will, but not much. _You_ know everything"

"Thanks"

"Best friends always do this, don't they? Telling each other secrets no one else knows 'bout?"

"Aye, they do…" – seeing I've already finished with shaving he slips down the trunk of the palmtree and lands on sand beside me.

We turn to the ocean. Gentle wind is stroking my hair, tide is going in and out, the hollow sound of the waves breaking fills the silence with peace and tranquility. Edward's hand covers mine. I close my eyes.

"And what happened when Will died?"

I open my eyes and prepare myself for telling the hardest part.

"They say…loving is worse than killing. Under this I can sign. Remember ya first kill?" – I turn to him with strict look. He thinks for a moment.

"I do. I was in the navy and this was my first boarding" – he frowns remembering – "that lad was…I remember he was blond…and with blue eyes. It was fast – I or he – and I chose me. But that moment when his eyes went dark and my sword turned inside him…it branded on my memory. I had a feeling I was killing myself, had a thought «Edward, who the hell are you to take this man's life?!»" – he tilts his shoulder – "though now I don't feel that guilt any longer. Life is simple – you kill or you get killed. At least it is…" – he makes a thoughtful pause and then continues as if fully agreeing with himself – "aye, it is much easier to live thinking this way" – he looks at me – "and why are you asking?"

"loving is worse than killing" – I repeat meaningfully – "when you kill people you feel a stab of guilt. This is true. But usually you feel more relieved than guilty. Feel relieved this man would never kill you in return, that ya're free from fear" – my hand sneaks away from his. My fingers draw five long lines on the sand – "And this voice of conscience is too weak comparing to the relieve you feel an' in time…" – I pass my hand along the lines and they disappear – "in time this voice jos' disappears"

Edward keeps staring at the sand for a very long moment. Thinking of something. Then the edge of his lips slightly jerk up and he nods. His eyes are waiting for me to continue. And I do.

"But love is much worse. If you dare to love someone with all ya heart… This person takes everything you have from ya – your money, your dreams, your plans, your purpose" – I make a short pause staring at the tide but not seeing it – "and even your soul. And your heart breaks into millions of sharp pieces. You're trying to put them back together and you make it but…sharp edges stay. Something to protect it from breaking again" – I focus my eyes and look at Edward. He is staring into nowhere – "So answering ya question…it was Hell after Will's death. I closed our inn, been spendin' all days getting dead pissed. With my memories as the only company. Then, two weeks later, I decided I wanna know nothing more of the shitty life of Mary Read. Wrote down an imaginary biography of the boy name Mark and tried to force my mind to believe this imaginary biography was mah own and that this boy Mark was me. An' actually I found out it was working. I just had to fully dissolve in this lie an' there was nothing better. Sold out the inn, put on men's clothes and cut mah hair short. I was Mark. And I believed in this. Went to London, straight to the docks. Spare hands are always needed on ships and mine were skillful so I got the place on the merchant brig in no time. What happened after you already know"

"Were you…pregnant?" – he finally tears himself from thoughts and concentrates his eyes on me. I shake my head.

"No. We ehm…" – I halter – "we tried but…maybe we needed more time for it than we had"

"I'm sorry" – he takes my hand and I give a shadow of a smile.

"One way or another" – I sigh – "The more I live the more I understand that things always happen the way they should. Aaaand that the only thing left for us is to accept it. The pain fades in time and new people make ya believe you worth something; without fake biographies and names. If Will didn't die would I find the assassins? When Ah Tabai admitted me into the brotherhood he taught me of balance, of philosophical approach towards every bad thing happening to me. They gave me strength to remember who I really am. To throw off all the masks and become Mary Read again. I became wiser. I faced mah memories and went through all the pain anew - and I let the past go. I moved on. Then they gave me purpose. Something to hold on to. And I realized that maybe being mahself ain't that bad at all. I kept on being James Kidd, of course, but only on surface, I wasn't trying to dissolve in this lie anymore…maybe the past of Mary Read is much worse than the past of easy-goin' Mark and Demon Kidd…an' maybe being Mary Read is harder, moving on is always hard. But nothin' else but mah past has made me who I am right now, with all its losses and regrets"

I give a slight nod to the sand finishing my story. Feeling bitter taste of every word but somehow at the same time feeling relieved after finally sharing this with somebody. That I don't have to keep it locked inside anymore. That I have someone to hold all of the sadness I cannot, living inside of me. Edward moves closer throwing his arm around me. He squeezes my hand and it makes me look at him.

"I like Mary Read better than Mark or James Kidd" – he smiles and I reflect his smile with mine.

"Course, she gives you what Mark and James Kidd can't"

"Mary" – he rolls his eyes – "I don't mean sex, though… Mary Read is fantastic in bed"

"…and not only in bed"

"aye" – he laughs – "Mary Read is fantastic on sand, on rocks, on grass...everywhere to put it short"

"Heh, I can say the same about devilishly handsome Edward Kenway"

"devilishly handsome you say?"

"Aye. Even dangerously. And I'm loving it"

He gives a smug smirk, then lifts our hands and rests them on his knee interlacing fingers. His voice is attentive and caring. And this burns me hotter than the sun above our heads.

"What I mean is that this woman is nothing short of amazing. With all her sensuality, unpredictability and wisdom… So fierce. So sharp-tongued and so brave. She has got through hell but still saved light in her heart… Stubborn like a mule though" – Edward scoffs and I smirk at him – "but I love it, though it surely pisses off. And she believes in me even when everyone else turns away. And she is so beautiful…"

His words are as sweet poison to me. I know I shouldn't be feeling what I feel but it seems like sharp edges of my heart are no longer sharp. My eyes shift to his mouth and I draw closer. However, in surprise, I watch Edward moving away. He puts his hand under his shirt and pulls out a gold ring that he always wears on the string underneath his clothes. He makes a swift jerk and the string tears. He carefully gets the ring out and throws the string away. Tosses the ring in his hand and then looks at me.

"I've been wondering why you never asked 'bout this ring"

"Saw no use in asking. I thought it's Caroline's"

"Partly. It was hers but she gave it back to me when was leaving, the truth is…it's my mother's" – Edward takes my hand and under my frowned shocked stare lays the ring on my palm and covers it with my fingers making me clutch it – "I want it to be yours"

I keep looking at my clenched hand – shocked as I am. Stunned as I am. In a minute, that feels like eternity, I finally regain ability to speak. I unclench my hand and stretch the ring back to Edward.

"No, no, no, Edward, it's a nice gesture, but I can't keep it"

He takes the ring back shrugging and puts it on the sand between us.

"I knew you'd say so" – he stands up – "then leave it here, the sand would eventually swallow it up and till the end of your days you'd be filling guilty for it" – he shoots me a smirk taking the mirror from the ground and contently observing his face. I've shaved him exactly as he wanted me to and a big grin stretches his lips. I shift my eyes from him to ring and back feeling the pressure crushing my shoulders – "Mary, I want you to keep it no matter if you agree to marry me or not. I just want you to have it. _You_ of all people. You don't have to feel obligated"

"But…Kenway, what if our lives would go separate ways? You would return back to England an' there you would fall in love with some woman, you'd regret of giving me your mother's ring then"

"No" – he gives a faint smile – "I won't. No woman in my life would ever be like you, Mary"

With this he turns and starts going back to our camp leaving me alone behind. Leaving me in wonder and mess.

The ring is shining brightly on the sand. I hesitate to lift it up, just watch the sun playing on its smooth surface. Loving is worse than killing…Aye, bitter truth it is. One day love becomes the most skillful killer you'd ever meet. We've gone too far. Too fucking far to stop it now.

I take the ring and slowly toss it in my hand – run my fingers over it, turn it one way and another, blankly stare. How many times was his mother doing the same thing? And Caroline? Suddenly it becomes utterly interesting for me to see if the ring fits me. I slip it on and it encompasses my ring finger perfectly – tight but not squeezing. I draw the hand away adoring the sight of the ring on it. Edward is right. I would never stop feeling guilty if I leave the ring here. Though it is unfair for him to manipulate me in such a way.

And I can't keep the ring on my hand always. It would born too much unwanted questions. So I look around for the string Edward has thrown away. I find it not far from the place where we were sitting. Pull the ring off my hand and thread the string through it, then tie it all round my neck hiding the ring under the shirt. This will do.

I cast a glance into the camp's direction and see no one there. But I don't feel like coming back so far. Too many thoughts in my head and I don't want to run across Edward so soon. I need to sort everything out before that.

Walking along the shore I'm replaying everything that happened during these days in my head. And mostly everything that have just happened. Maybe I shouldn't shut him out ever again? Maybe I should just let him love me? And let myself love him without any hesitations and doubts? But would I be able to let him take everything I have? He's too dangerous, too reckless, too impetuous, too hot-tempered. The striving for Observatory would kill him and what would be with me? I'll end up half-alive, dead pissed, wishing the sea to take me. Something tells me that's exactly how everything would end…

But maybe it is worth a risk?

* * *

**I know it's a lot about sex, please don't think I'm obsessed with it or something, it's just that those times were...smutty. And I just don't want to mince simple people's relationships (well, not simple maybe)  
But I think there's a lot more of feelings, understanding and comfort and, well, of love...**


	2. The Miracle

**Hi, guys! I'm so sorry for the long delay, I was really busy with my study, fell behind a little bit and so had to do a lot of tasks I should have done long ago. Anyways here's a big big chapter I've written and I hope the volume justifies me a bit and you'll forgive my lag. Things become pretty crazy in this chapter...  
Thanks for everyone who took up the call to refollow from Nothing You Can Spend to the sequel, you're amazing, thank you all so much!  
P.S. Guest Kiba1500****, I can't write you a message of gratitude and so I do it here - your review literally made me jump on my chair with joy and enthusiasm, thank you for your constructive criticism.  
P.P.S. Really recommend you to listen the song Harry Nilsson - Coconut before reading, it will do then.**

**Here we go!**

* * *

2

The Miracle

_Day 8__ -_14:45

This is something that is already driving me absolutely insane.

It made me laugh when on our first training Mary told me that my only task was to sneak past and catch her. Ignoring my skepticism she simply turned round and started deepening into the jungles - making noise on her go, hemming a song to her nose. It seemed easy, she couldn't hear me whilst producing so much noise, could she?

Yes – _she could. _

Now I'm not laughing at all and each training turns into the source of constant annoyance.

How can a person be this swift and this keen-eared?! I _am _sure that _now _my every move is _absolutely_ quiet. Whether I move through the growth of bushes or whether I sneak to her from above. She always does this – rustling and hemming. And today she is even singing out loud. _Yes!_ – I think - _This is my chance! _

I walk around the glade she is passing through, orienteering on her voice. She turns left and that is just what I need. I am waiting for her there, on a branch, hidden under the dome of thick foliage. Feeling drunk, hardly suppressing hysterical giggles. Finally this moment has come! I will catch her! I will catch her and show her I'm not suck in this. Show her I can be a serious opponent to her! She ain't aware of my presence. She ain't aware. Or…

…I am only thinking so.

When I jump through the bushes she suddenly jerks forward and the power is changed. I am lying on my back, puffing after the blow earth rewarded my body with, and Mary is pressing stick to my throat.

"Much better"

Though she doesn't seem any proud, she is strict and her face gets not a bit softer. I guess I should be content at least with this small progress, but I'm not. The victory was so damn close…so close… Mary pulls the stick back and I bump the back of my head on the ground swearing the dirtiest curses to myself while she starts sauntering away without looking at me.

"Now get your arse up and show me the real stalkin', Kenway. Make me proud"

The song is resumed as Mary disappears round the corner of the path. I'm dead sick of this game. What if I just stay here lying on the ground and listening to Mary singing her strong low voice and sending this all to hell? Or I can come back into our camp and have some relaxing tea, have an afternoon nap or play dices with Jack or Charles. Maybe I'll even talk Anne into telling where they have hidden our rum. This idea is tempting. So tempting, but…

I imagine what would Mary think of me when she comes back, seeing me given up…she'll send me a mocking squint, a grin of hers would be the omen of my failure and the words «that's what I thought» would be floating in the air even if she wouldn't give them voice.

I push myself up. The singing has withered and I understand there can be only two options why. Whether she was eaten by a panther whether she has decided I'm good enough to cope with task without her help. There are no predators on this island except us and thus there is only one option left. Suddenly it encourages me. One day I'll catch her I just shouldn't give up.

* * *

_Day 9_ –about 23:00

This was a good day.

Like all the others.

Each day on this bloody island flows according to one and only studied schedule – wake up, eat, get food, cook, eat, train, rest, cook, eat, rest, sleep. And nothing really happening. There is not even a slight minor event that would shake this everyday mode and add some new colors to the routine. Even the weather stays freaking permanent – the same clear sky, the same hot sun, the same calm tide. The least it can bring us rain or just a tiny storm with lightning bolts and thunder! But no, it keeps the same clear and steady. And this is fucking irritating.

It's irritating for me. It's irritating for everyone. It's more than a weak past and the side-effect of being alive and kicking after swimming in the storm has withered itself completely. Everyone just wants to get out of here, the sooner the better. Long rest and peace may also be the reason for getting tensed. We all started to argue constantly. Each one finds something annoying in each one and doesn't think it worthy to keep mouth shut about it. Right now we already have Vane pissed off with Anne and Mary as they cooked meat not the way he asked them to in the morning. It was a wrong thing for him to start that… Mary and Anne both furious are not something I'd soon forget. And Charles' jaw as well. Hands is at daggers with Jack as he thought he was trying to pick up to Anne and it was a hard task to drag them fighters apart. Though I'm sure there was no need for Jack to take it so sharp. We all know Hands is trying to pick up to Mary. I don't feel great about it but the reason I haven't already smeared him over the nearest palm is that I know Mary perfectly well to say this man is not her type.

I'm her type – cocky, presumptuous and reckless. She's fire and fire needs nor calm water, nor decent down-to-earth ground. Fire needs only fire.

So…with whom did I hassle with?

With Jack for he's stolen my unfinished rum. With Anne for not being enough heedful and telling there was a mess inside our cove just after she finished working about it. With Charles when he told me how annoying I can be constantly speaking "reckon" though I can bet I don't speak it this often as he affirms. I reckon…

Shit.

With Emily when Jack and I were trying to get details about what is it between Vane and her.

And I don't count Hands – he annoys me with his only sight each time I see him. So there's no use in telling _how _muchwe argue.

We all need changes. Even if staying here on this island brings certain benefits. Well…for me. I don't know what about the others but I'm pretty sure Jack and Anne take the benefits the best way they can. And Vane... heh. To sweeten the pot, on the second day of our staying here, after lasses confirmed their rules we all had to obey, Mary sent Emily to follow Vane whenever he went. It wasn't part of her latest intention – to keep an eye on Vane in case he casts something that would put us in danger. No – this time it was made to see if Charles, the grumbliest of us all, got the hint that everyone on this island should do the part of the mutual work and contribute their own efforts each day. And so Emily was watching if he really fishes when he says he is going to or if he really gathers wood if he said he would. I don't know how and why but Emily appeared to be one and only person on whom Vane wouldn't let his steam off. Probably she's the one here able to follow Vane and get on his nerves and not be beaten for it. And probably I know the reason – she saved him from being torn apart by a shark in that storm. Reckon someone feels he owes his life to someone. And just yesterday Mary, Anne and I were gossiping that these two started spending too much time together and their usual morning fishing hour now turned into morning two fishing hours and maybe even longer.

It's hard to conceal something when you are all living on the same not very big island, rumors spread with fire speed. Thus no one still believes the relationships uniting Mary and I are limited only in friendship. It gave rise to the tide of silly jokes towards me and her. I can't say it touches me, I'd better say I even like these jokes. But not Mary. Each time someone serenely enquires of how soon we are getting married Mary's eyes catch not a kind fire and her every muscles strains as if she is ready to tear this person apart. It irritates her, I know. And I know the reason even if she thinks I know nothing. What I know is that she is anxious about her authority. And about her fearless demon-pirate fame. I know she's afraid she can lose everything if someone sees she has a soft spot.

I'm dull maybe, but not completely not to see it. And I respect her too much to show I may like them talking about us. This respect reaches even such a high level that I don't dare express my affection in public. It was once…but it was a part of a game we were playing one evening so it doesn't counts. Since then I afford myself no more than slightly touching her with my hand or my foot at night as we lie under the same blanket but in a respectful distance to each other. Sometimes when I'm perfectly sure everyone else is sleeping I do something more and sometimes she doesn't even stop me.

We're friends. With certain benefits. And each time I want to talk about more, because I _really _feel something more than just lust, Mary starts shouting and brawling. I don't like shouting and brawling so finally after…I think it was the ninth try…I followed her generous advice to shut up and have balls to take her without whimpering of how bad and cruel she is.

Lie it is all.

But I've got tired of trying to break through this brick wall of her stubbornness. At least we can talk about everything else perfectly getting along with each other and make love in between. Maybe it's like having a mate but he doesn't have a cock and you fall in love with him…

Oh my God it's not what I wanted to say. It's so complicated.

Anyways what I really think is – if people feel happy in each other's company who the hell cares how their relationships are called?

Another reason to keep me tensed is the Observatory. Roberts and I arranged to meet and trail that Portuguese ship with some stuff for the Observatory inside. Tomorrow I must be on the opposite side of West Indies…Avast - bloody hell, I'm stuck in here… It comforts me that I'm still having ten more days to reach him as we were wise to arrange not a sharp appointment but a floating one, to play safe if there be circumstances to slow one of us down.

There _are _circumstances.

I've told Mary about it. Know she hates this topic but I needed to drop the nervousness off. Though each day the time of appointment nears she seems more and more content as if being genuinely happy I've got no chance to find a way from here.

All these thoughts are lazily swirling in my head whilst I'm trying to fall asleep lying on my back and staring into the stony ceiling of our cave. Anne and Jack are already watching the tenth dream and Hands' muffled wheezing indicates the same. Quite voices of Vane and Emily are reaching me from outside the cave where they have stayed by the fire finishing the evening pathetic portion of rum. Having blankets we see no use in lighting the fire inside and the center of the cave where it used to be burning is now clean giving more space to move. I wrap myself tighter into the blanket but just as I do Mary yanks it back to her living my right side uncovered.

Nice, she always does it, always pulls the blanket on herself.

She is lying with her back on me but as I'm ready to open my mouth and lecture her for being selfish I hear almost inaudible whisper. I strain my ears to grasp the sense. And it makes me frown.

"Mary, are you praying?! Lass, you're freaking me out"

She freezes, the whisper dies. Then she slowly turns to me with her face enough threatening to make me regret for asking this question. _She_ thinks it is enough threatening, not I.

"Why don't ya be sleepin' as I thought you are" – she hisses.

"Well now it must be obvious I am not. What does holly bible stuff have ever something to do with _you _of all people_?_"

"what, am I not good enough for this stuff? Is that what you mean? And even If I _am _prayin' – it's ain't ya damn business at all"

"here we go…I just ask a simple question and you turn into a hedgehog. Relax lass nobody can hear us now, you can stop being demon Kidd and just genuinely tell me what's up"

"Leave me be, M'not in the mood for another heart to heart" – she glares, more thorny because of the fact I've heard her praying than of the fact someone can eavesdrop us.

"I won't till you give me a normal answer, that's all I ask and then you can continue your fury time with your sulking back on me I won't tell you a word for it. C'mon lass, you wear my mum's ring on your neck! It's a trifle I'm asking for!"

"Trifle you say" – Mary squints her eyes wickedly – "trifle. I've damn promised Lord an' Jaysus an' all their jolly company up there I'll be prayin' each time before the sleep in exchange for them savin' your pity salty dog's arse, so – aye! Trifle it is" – she shoots me one last glare which she must be thinking will make me feel guilty and then turns on her side – "Dammit, Kenway, you're such a blunt" – she grumbles and sharply pools the blanket.

"Great, now I'm blunt, Miss Responsiveness. If you'd be so attentive you'd notice that actually I'm closing you from the draught from outside and that maybe I deserve my half of blanket to close myself from this draught as well!"

A couple of seconds pass and I feel the pressure of her grasp weakening and carefully pull the blanket on myself. Good. It made her feel guilty then. But I'm not over yet.

"And you can assume one tiny idea that maybe you should keep the word you've given to me instead of the one you've given to the guy that you don't even know if he even exists. If you wanted me alive so much as you imply!"

"Rrrrrr…can you fuckin' shut up and sleep, Kenway!" – Mary hisses in respond.

"Course…we don't like discussing problems we prefer running away from them, sure Mary this is the right decision like always, very mature - I hide behind silly jokes you hide behind the mask of indifference and…how do we call it?...oh yeah - friendlysex"

"I swear if ya don't stop brawlin' I would-…"

"…what? run out of the cave and away from the problems? Oh, there's nothing new in this, I've got used to it already – not scary Mary, not anymore!"

"Oh fuck! If you ain't content with somethin' just go away, nobody is keepin' you here!" – Mary groans and makes a jerk away from me dragging the blanket along with her and curling up putting the line to the argument. A snort from me follows.

Now _I_ don't feel any capable of lying here any longer. I jump up and stamp my steps out of the cave – past perplexed Vane and Emily and further along the shore. Need some air. And a swim. And throw something just to throw it again and punch it and kick it.

Great, now I've got pissed off with Mary too. She was the last in my imaginary "let's-fight-list" and now I reckon I had a fight with everyone on this island today. Can tick it off.

* * *

_Day 10_ _– _6:00

"You know it's rather not fair"

"Aye, know what you mean"

"Oi, it's just we were those lucky bastards to steal the ship and we almost did that, not somebody else but we, and all the glory must be ours but just look at us now" – Vane lifts his hands in despair as we're still lying in the cave after the sleep and rare rays of the early morning light brighten the sand in the center of the cave struggling through the chinks between the stone of the entrance and the wood of the bark closing it – "more than a week already and I start to fail shaking this feeling of losing temper…its better this time, beyond any doubt it is, that time on Isla Providencia was brain fucking when there were just you and me and wild nature, Kenway, you see? We didn't have any hint of order there and that's what was our problem, hard to say it but m'gonna admit lasses are right 'bout the schedule thing and the like"

"Aye" – I repeat fully understanding Vane's indignation.

Moreover – if the Jackdaw won't be back in two or the later three days the Observatory would be forever gone for me. If I wouldn't find any other way, of course, to convince Roberts to trust me his affairs again and that man is a hard one to crack and make him trust somebody.

Vane starts to wheeze drowsily and I assume he's yielded to the temptation he was so bold to resist all the minutes we were talking being the ones to wake up the first. I slowly turn my head right giving a good wide-mouth yawn. The second I meant – Mary was on her feet long before us as when I woke up my hand didn't find her on her place. In the night I had a good long walk trying to kick the fury out of my mind just as I was doing with the sand on my way and when I came back – tired but cooled down – even Charles and Emily were already sleeping, not to mention Mary who had curled herself up in the corner. No blanket did she left me and when I lay down on our usual place I passed out just as my head touched the leaves on the floor.

Now the blanket is vacant, it is neatly folded in the same corner but I need it no more. My eyelids fall down, I'm listening to the steady breathings of the others and planning to grasp a couple or two hours asleep.

I'm thinking of where Ade and my Jackdaw are right now, do they sail it fast to rescue their captain, how much time is it left? Maybe I'll wake up and she'll be already here. Jackdaw. Or Mary. Wonder where _she _is. Hmmmph…wonder what's it with Caroline at the moment. Does she think about me sometimes? With hate or a smile? Did she find someone to be a good match for her. Did she received my letter. What's with dad? Must be pasturing sheep living in the same house, wearing the same blue shirt and short red scarf that more often is used for rubbing hands and not decorating.

* * *

There's a sound – like sails flapping in the wind, like frapping far in the distance. My dream I see, what else can it be. My pretty girl Jackdaw, my beloved sweetheart, my darling – always welcoming, loyal, never leaving me nor lecturing. A good match… Or was I ever stuck on the island?! What nonsense! I'm standing behind her helm am I not? And what was that dream of caves and trainings and afternoons without rest. What was that heaviness on the heart about? No troubles I feel now – only freedom of endless water sparkling under the sun in front of my eyes.

I'm trying to start Randy Dandy shanty but all I'm capable of is to open my mouth without any sound slipping my lips. The men of my crew seem not to notice a thing – the fact that there's something wrong with their captain, they don't even look they are aware of my presence at all. And by the way…

My crew doesn't even look like my crew.

I notice random faces of people I've known and those whom I still know – Jack, Anne, Vane, Thatch, Ben, Bonnet, dead sailors who used to sail on Jackdaw. I look right, for Ade, afraid of not finding him there and the presentiment justifies itself as the man standing on the quartermaster place is Bartholomew Roberts himself. He grins a dangerous smile revealing sharp teeth, throws me a scornful line if I'm ready for the big secret to be finally opened to me. Hard sense loads my entrails – the feeling close to gritting teeth against the iron, but I nod watchfully squinting my eyes.

"But before that we must finish one unfinished deed"

He saunters back and to the edge of the stern. The smile of his outruns the level of liveable danger and every muscle on my jaw strains when I read sparkling threat playing in his black eyes. As if out of the blue there is a gold model in his hand I notice. The model of a temple – pure gold, true masterpiece. Passing me he waves it in front of my nose and as I want it badly to catch it he jerks it away moving back. There's nothing in this world I want more than this gold temple and I feel like a dying man crawling for the gulp of water.

"Give it back!" – I bark.

"Back?" – Roberts mocks – "I will, but the deed must be finished"

There stands a man on the stern. A young man. I recognize him though I haven't seen him for a long while – James Kidd. I wonder what the hell he is doing here on my ship when he has his own one – we're good friends but he has never found a wish to stay on my ship for long, he's kind of obsessed with his red-sailed schooner. Jim looks discontent – furious I would say. He bursts a thunder of obscenities towards the other man – spits, grimaces and glares while Roberts stays the same scornfully grinning – then the storm shifts upon me and a strange feeling appears deep inside my heart while looking into this hazel, shining with amber under the sun, eyes. The mind doesn't understand but the heart does and this wrecks my certainty.

"No one honest has an easy life, Edward! Wake up and rub ya eyes already! You can still stop it! Till it's not too late!"

Sage comes up to me taking out the gun. The longing for the gold thing in his hand doubles the misery. He directs the gun into Kidd who makes no try to save himself and it's not long till I realize it's my hand wrapping the gun and the Sage's is covering it, not pressing to make me do what I don't want – just waiting.

"It always meant this, Captain Edward Kenway, didn't it?" – Roberts scorns – "She or the Observatory"

I frown, want to tell him he's mistaken, that this is James Kidd he's talking about, want to laugh into his face but the temple in his hand captivates me.

"It will be yours, Edward Kenway. All I ask for is to pull the trigger and all the riches you desire so much all the power of this world will be yours. Imagine kings falling at your feet, pleading for your favour and mercy, Caroline crawling back to tell how she regrets leaving you – this all will be yours. All and sundry" – he scoffs but I can't take my eyes off the lad who does nothing but looking at me with sharp reproach – "you don't need her, Edward Kenway, why would you if you can have everything else your heart desires – women, power, money. Her brotherhood is a threat, they are trying to prevent you from finding the observatory, to steal this everything that can be yours. And she helps them. She's the distraction. Kill her!"

My finger slowly presses the trigger as if not controlled by me it all, the only thing I can do is to look at the disaster bursting – blues into browns.

There is a sound of thunder.

And I open my eyes with terror.

* * *

6:30

"Hey, Kenway, stop whimpering, let people sleep!"

I startle and jump up into sitting position. My heart is beating like crazy promising to crush the chest very soon if I won't calm myself down. I can still see red color everywhere. Red color of blood. Mary's blood.

My skin is cool but the small drops of sweat seem much colder. It's Israel in front of me – he has just woken me up – I wish he did it a second faster.

"Are you all right?" – he frowns.

"Aye" – I answer brokenly catching my breath as if I wasn't sleeping but running on an on all this time.

"Fine then" – he scornfully jerks his brow and makes a move to stalk off back to his bed place but we both freeze at the sound we suddenly grasp.

The cracking of fire outside, the crunch of sticks being broken, the voices of Anne and Mary. But this is not that sound. Above this all there's a sound of sails flapping in the wind. We exchange shocked glances and rush outside.

Mary and Anne are sitting by the fire eating the ends of the dinner. We ran pass them right to the beach. There it is – the ship. The real ship! Not a plot of someone's fantasy. It has just circled the island and went further along its way. And it's too far already. Too far for them to see us and hear our shouts for help. But the hope makes both me and Israel keep straining our lungs till I feel I'm losing my voice. Hands, the object of my constant annoyance, is now my ally and the look we share after we cannot scream any longer is open – full of despair and doom. Nothing else we can do.

And I stamp my steps back into the camp.

"Why didn't you two stop her?!" – I roar.

But Mary and Anne only exchange a lazy squint.

"We tried but no one simply heard us" – Anne shrugs and Mary nods.

They are mocking me, they are just simply mocking me!

"The hell! She should have sailed just near the island how is it they couldn't hear you?!" – Israel chimes in just as furious as I am.

"But the fact is…" – Mary starts with sincere look.

"…they didn't hear us" – Anne finishes looking just the same.

"Have you fuckin' done this on purpose?!" – I bark puffing the air out of my nose drills like a bull before the red rag – "It was our chance!"

"On purpose?!" – Mary hypocritically widens her eyes – "who d'you think we are? We would never do such a thing! Am I right, Anne?"

"Never" – Anne fervently shakes her head.

"For fuckin' hell…" – Israel groans and disappears behind the bushes and I'm close to follow his example. Just haven't really decided what to do yet – to follow or to crash everything in our camp. Jack appears out of the cove wrinkling under the sun, Vane and Emily go after him stretching themselves – all woken up because of the hustle outside. Mary finishes brewing tea and stretches me a bottle with sly expression on her face.

"Fancy tea, Kenway?" – she lifts the plate with meat she's been eating – "food? You seem so tensed, I think it's because of hunger…or maybe you're getting late to some place?" – she gives an effected mask of deep thinking – "hmph…no, guess it's definitely because of hunger, take a seat"

I set my jaw at her smug smile, topple the plate down out of her hand and stream away from the camp.

She's done it on purpose. Put Anne up to play up to her. They are like sisters to each other – naturally she agreed. And all to keep me away from the Observatory. How can she act so mean and not fair?!

Suddenly the words from my sleep come upon the surface of my mind.

_Her brotherhood is trying to prevent you from finding the Observatory. And she helps them._

_She helps them. _

Aye, she does. And now I see that today's incident wasn't the first one confirming it. I can't say I was ever angrier before. My best friend…the closest person I've ever had in my life betrayed me. How could she do this? How?! Not after everything we had together, not after everything we've gone through!

But the more I'm thinking… If Stefano has been dogging the Jackdaw everywhere she sailed he must have followed us all the way to Thatch's island too and stop somewhere not far behind. Then why is The Prancing still not here?

It doesn't matter if I like it or not but I see only one reasonable explanation.

* * *

_Day 10_ – 11:00

I did it.

I really did.

Yesterday I finally caught Mary. I was so frustrated about her and didn't even wait for the training time to let the steam off. When I felt restrained enough to focus on trailing I started spying upon her hiding in the bushes not far from the camp. She didn't seem this ironic as before, I would say she looked preoccupied. Mary finished her breakfast, kept sitting by the fire for some time but not taking part in conversation with the others, then told Anne something on which the redhead nodded and answered with compassionate air but Mary only brushed it away and left the camp deepening further into the jungles.

She wasn't giving a damn of noise she was making breaking through thickets. But I was, following her quietly on the right. Mary stopped when she reached a small lake, sighed, furiously threw several rocks into the water, gave a loud groan, started taking off her clothes muttering something to her nose, then laughed a nervous odd laughter and dived into the lake. I was waiting patiently till she's done with swimming, took a closer position whilst she was underwater. Finally she made it on the bank, stretched herself. Water was running down her amazing sinewy body skirting the slight roundness of her breasts trickling down into the delta of her womanhood and finishing its way on the grass under her feet. I sharply looked away – I should have remained focused and cold-minded and not let anger and disappointment at her die away. The bushes I was hiding in were just near the spot where she left her clothes. She started dressing on. I waited till she's fully ready to leave and looked at her – she turned to go back into the camp, made just one step and...

I swooped upon her. She didn't hear a sound, couldn't react fast, was pinned down to the ground and this was my victory.

I finally got her. The apprentice excelled the master. My training is over.

And today I will trail one of them to the place where they've hidden rum – fed up with their rules, enough!

* * *

_Day 11_ – 20:00

"Happy birthday, Mary!"

Great mutual scream runs through the twilight accompanied with the jolly sound of guitar strings under Jack's fingers as the person of the occasion rubbing sleepy eyes walks out of the cave where she was having her protracted after-lunch nap and opens her mouth to yawn but stops in shock.

"I-can't-believe-it" – she utters staring at the smiling faces of her friends and at the bottles of rum everywhere, that Charles, Israel and I brought back despite Anne's and Emily's resistance. Her eyes find me and send a biting glance as I was the only one who could blabbed out she is having a birthday today.

"Say goodbye to your balls, Kenway, remember this night forever – your last night bein' a man"

"Oh toss it, Mary" – Anne chimes in taking her to the fire and supplying with food and drink – "I've cooked fish the way you like it – with all the fins fried to crunch" - we all take our seats round the fire as well and I take mine on Mary's right, but not very close. God knows what she can cast. Anne continues – "and Edward's intentions were good, don't blame him" – she looks at the others and laughs – "Imagine – having a birthday and not telling about it to anyone! We wouldn't even know about it at all if Edward didn't crackled, finally, when the night fell"

"You must be feeling very guilty, Mary" – Emily supports and she snorts.

"Ha, course"

"Oh stop being such a bitch and relax, Read" – Vane scoffs, already plastered enough, raising his bottle – "I have a toast!" – Mary rolls her eyes but Charles pays no attention and looks all the waiting faces around – "Here's to our dear Mary Read, ladies and gentlemen. Fierce captain and the woman free from the rule of men! Dangerous Siren of our Pirate Republic. She's a badass she is. Tough and sharp-tongued" – Mary sends him a glare and he grins – "And still we all respect and love her"

"Cheers to Mary Read" – I conclude raising the bottle high and openly smirking at her thorny glares.

"To Mary Read!"

The bottles clink and I gulp down a big portion of rum.

"So" – Hands says when all get to eating – "you turn…what age today?"

"The secret you'll never know" – Mary smirks, already much relaxed and content.

"Oh, come one, lass, it's too early for you to say such lines. Women say it when they past thirty. I'm sure you're not over thirty" – Jack grins – "or, if you are, then you surely must tell us what's your secret" – he giggles.

"Aye!" – Anne supports – "I can put a start! Even if I look pretty mature I'm only nineteen and I ain't hiding it"

"Woah" – Emily rounds her eyes – "And you captain Rackham?"

"Thirty-seven" – Jack answers with a smug smile and looks at Anne – "baby, kid's time is over – go to bed"

"Screw you old rascal" – Anne giggles under mutual laughter – "a word more and my pistol will force _you _to go to bed. Mary made a good shot out of me"

"Yes, please! What a temper…God be with you Ireland"

"Aaanyways" – Anne speaks – "the plan is – we're telling our ages and then Mary cracks and tells hers, deal Mary?"

"Nope"

"Anyways deal, she's agree, orwill agree, at any rate"

"Nope, I will not"

"No you will, hey anybody – start please"

"Deal!" – Vane exclaims – "I have one year till my forties"

"wow, you must be the oldest of us all, Charles, d'you remember how Henry the 8th looked like?"

"Fuck you, Jack. Only two years older than you bony arse"

"Heh, you've been staring at me arse? Weird way of spending your free time, mate" – Jack jokes and shifts at Emily – "and you sweetie? How old are you?"

"Seventeen" – Emily smiles but without a hint of shyness, on the other hand, rather cockily – "And before anyone of you mock at this I must say it's an advantage, shows my potential - in seventeen years being a lass I'm already a good sailor and find my company amongst captains"

"It's just cause Read sees herself in you" – Vane smirks heartedly.

"Shit you say, Vane" – Mary snorts – "She's a good sailor and a valuable member of mah crew. Tis why I trust her"

"No one said opposite" – he gives Emily a lingering look which she tries hard to endure but eventually shifts her eyes as her cheeks take a pretty shade of red.

"Israel" – Anne speaks and he echoes with a lift of his chin – "what's your age?"

"Thirty-four" – he answers shortly – "Kenway?"

"I'm at the full might not like you, old dogs" – I smirk stretching myself and provoke a burst of jocular indignation from Vane, Jack and Hands – "heh, aye I am! Only twenty-six – the best age for a man – I'm strong, agile, enduring and still already have enough experience and…by the way… can have sex all the night through while you three must be off after the first round. So yeah, like Emily said – young age is an advantage"

"Screw you, Kenway" – Charles groans and pushes my shoulder whilst I'm giggling.

"He's just fucking around, girls" – Jack protests – "age doesn't affect this part of our life at all, at forty it's the same as at twenty-six"

"Oh really?" – Anne teases and lasses burst into laughter. Jack frowns.

"I think I haven't got it Annie, but anyway, let's compare. The last time we had it how much time did it last and how many? And you Mary tell us the truth about Kenway"

Mary looks at me and I raise my brow challenging her.

"Shut up, Rackham. M'not playing this game" – she finally says tilting her head up to gulp some rum.

"A-ha, afraid Kenway with his twenty-six will lose?"

"No holly Christ!" – Anne flings her arms up – "we're not playing it because it's too personal that's why. How can you all talk about it so freely?!"

"We're men" – Israel shrugs and it seems to be a fair conviction as after a moment of thinking lasses exchange defeated glances.

"So, Mary" – I shift back to the main topic – "we've told how old we are" – I salute her my bottle – "now's your turn"

"Yeah, Mary, come on!" "Come on, lass, tell us" "It's your birthday of all days don't be sulking"

"All right, all right!" – Mary raises her hands in protective gesture – "jos' cool down you all" – she waits till everyone's calmed down and attentively waiting for her answer – "Ahm twenty-four – surprise! Woohoo what great information it is, let's party, open me another bottle, Kenway"

"Don't drink too much, Read" – I smile at her and explain to the others whirling finger at my temple – "A couple of drinks and she starts acting as loony as hot cakes, believe me"

"Aha, keep it up talking bullshit, I don't remember such things at all and I can outdrink any of you here and still be able to walk straight"

"Right, we'll see by the end of the night, lass"

Just as I've expected the word "don't" affected Mary in the opposite direction and she flauntingly made three big gulps of rum defiantly looking at me all the time. Everything goes according to the plan so far. Drink a lot, Mary, worry about nothing. And then, when you expect it the least you will get my revenge.

There's can be nothing worse than betrayal of the one you love.

* * *

_23:00_

Finally! I can't believe it! I sincerely can't believe it! God bless Jack and his stupid humor. Don't know why but probably because we are all kind of drunk he suddenly got a fixed idea in his head that my spyglass must be broken. How we reached this topic I don't remember – first it was something about the ships we all used to sail on, then it was something about bureaucratic British scums, then of the sea that will eventually swallow us all and then all of a sudden these were spyglasses to talk about. It doesn't matter, really, because as the result I really looked through it and… what did I see?

I saw a distant ships' lights.

Not a single ship that could be a trade vessel to shift its course before reaching us. No.

These were the lanterns of five ships. Of _our _ships.

They must reach the island at dawn. And until then we'll be partying celebrating Mary's birthday and our final salvation from here.

And, yeah, soon things would be so funny as each every one of us is getting terribly drunk.

* * *

_Day 12_ – 01:00

Aye…things are so damn hilarious right now…

Mary and Jack has just finished singing _Leave her Johny_ by the guitar and each time there was "_leave_" Anne was joining them with an expression of pure torture on her face. Hands, Vane and I has just finished playing an amazing game – who's trickle would be farthest and I'm proud of myself mine overrun Hands' for half an inch and Vane's for an inch. Heh, that's how we do it.

Emily is building an enormous sandcastle – with flags, doors and all the stuff. Charles went to help her.

There's an inflammatory tune Jack has started and Mary left him to sing alone with words of how she loves this song and swaying her hips to join Anne in dance and…to put it mildly two beautiful and dangerous lasses dancing together to a seductively rhythmical music is really a sight for sore eyes.

They are both pretty plastered already. Just like everyone in here. But the plan I've got requires some focus, for a start at least. Nothing really horrible of course, I'm not going to kill or cripple her or something. And so I must admit I'm the least drunk right now.

I see Hands walking Mary and Anne around taking another bottle of rum and making himself by the fire flaring his greedy look at Mary and thinking I can't see him doing it. Or maybe he knows but doesn't give a shit. At any rate _I _don't give a shit.

There are several steady lines in the song something of _"Put the lime in the coconut, and drink 'em bot' up" _and "_ain't there nothing I can take_" and _"You're such a silly woman" _repeating all the time with minor changes of verses and chorus. It is easy-going not loaded with prominent content, funny in the sound and that's exactly what makes it so good.

I'm leaning the trunk of the nearest palm enjoying them dancing with a smug smile. Jack is singing and his hands are running over the strings but his eyes never leave the sight in the center of the glade as well. I've got to say I've never seen Mary moving so alluringly ever before. And her hips moving so exciting. It's even getting too obscene. Anne's hand goes wondering up and down Mary's waist and hipline and Mary's hand strokes her jawline and neck, both are looking too fucking mischievous and hot.

I rashly step towards them before Jack, Hands and I got a heart attack and part them after what they don't hesitate to join me into their mad dance. Mary wraps her sash round my neck pulling me close and making my body move in time with the music and Anne saunters up to Israel dragging him by the hand into the dance and then to Jack who willingly stands up never stopping singing and playing though but enjoying her dancing around him. Charles and Emily, attracted by the music and laughter come up and join us as well. I've been hoping the way we dance, Mary and I, would keep on the same…hmph…close and enticing I would say but soon as the music becomes faster and more briskly we found ourselves screaming out the words of the song in one mutual dance all together. But still she keeps closer to me than to anyone else, slightly touching me here and there time and again as if accidently, catching my eyes with her ardent glances. I even feel my heart betraying my mind and making me forget what the hell was the reason for my anger at her. Dancing and singing becomes top crazy and we distort the song more and more with howls and shouts and laughter and grimaces getting more and more drunk and free ourselves.

This night is beautiful.

* * *

2:00

Mary crashed the guitar against the tree after Jack started playing _The Parting Glass _and Anne started singing it. She asked them to stop in a friendly way first but then as they kept on with a smile ignoring her words she did _this_. No music now. I've told she becomes unreasonable after few bottles.

* * *

02:30

I think I should definitely stop drinking _right now. _

Everybody else is already enough pissed not to remember the events of this night when the morning comes. Even usually always restrained Hands said goodbye to his control and let himself free dancing crazy tribal dances he said he once seen when Thatch and he were searching for some treasure and their way crossed a small Taíno village. He really _did _besmear himself with mud in Taino-like style and started teaching everyone how to dance like they.

Now I really see how funny it is to observe all the drunk people around doing absolutely insane things while myself staying in some sparse focus left. Sparse, aye. But _still _it isfocus.

During this hour Jack and Anne managed to fight, then to make peace, then to fight again and make peace once more. And all because of some trifles – one time Jack said something nice of his lasses from the past and Anne, offended, didn't hesitate putting her husband into the topic which made Jack totally furious. Next time it was something about a piece of meat that Jack had eaten though Anne wanted it and I had to drag her away from Jack when she swooped on him annoyed after ten minutes of arguing.

Charles and Emily finished the sandcastle – it looked wonderful. Aye, so wonderful… until Vane suddenly remembered the night we were forced by the royal navy to dive into the stormy ocean. With a shout "glorious king George, get this, you fucking arselicker! How d'you feel in your fancy safe castle now, huh?!" he started stamping the sandy masterpiece – the careful work of past two hours – while Emily was roaring obscenities pelting him with sand trying to stop the destruction. I've been observing this from my usual observation place – leaning against the palm between the camp and the beach – and laughing to myself thinking of how good it would be to mock them all later, when they are all sober not remembering a thing.

Then Emily tried to drown him in the water – I was looking at this attentively, ready to help Charles if she gets too far being too uncontrolled after a lot of drinks – but he always made it on surface, taking air in before she sent him underwater again. They finished with kissing just as I've expected and stalked off into the jungles. And I had to find another prey for my observation. What a pity.

I look around. Jack is playing on the carcasses of the smashed guitar, blankly touching the only string it has left; Anne is leaning on him with her eyes closed and a delicate smile on her face. Not interesting. But suddenly…

I understand one thing.

I've lost sight of Mary and I haven't seen her for about twenty minutes already. My whole body stiffens when I see Hands nowhere around as well. I have a bad feeling that I'm gonna do something very reckless very very soon even being the least drunk of all.

The shore seems empty in every direction – no silhouettes lit up with the moonlight. But…wait wait there's an easier way. Grey pattern fills the world. I search for the one figure of gold and soon I find her. She's pinned to the palm tree with the figure of red clutching her waist dragging her against him and kissing her neck.

The world sharply becomes normal as I lose the concentration. The hot Welsh blood starts boiling in my veins at once and I stamp my heavy steps in their direction. I come up close feeling my teeth echoing with pain for the set jaw and feeling my fists clenched tight. But I stop in my tracks grasping the content of Mary's quite moaning whisper.

"Edward…"

She keeps repeating my name all the time though not seeing that I've come up to them as her eyes are tightly closed and the fury, if it was so mighty, gradually cools down in me leaving the normal level of annoyance. I still have to do something with this Israel fucking Hands sticking to her neck despite Mary's calling him another man's name. I sharply drag him back and push away onto the sand. He stagers swiftly lifting himself up, blinking his eyes in shock but his usual military bearing keeps him from losing balance and eventually he fully stands up.

"What the hell, Kenway?!"

He makes sharp yank forward but appears unprepared for the sudden blow of my fist hitting his nose and falls back.

"Just showing you real jerk's action like I promised"

He keeps lying on sand swearing and covering his bleeding nose. Rubbing my hurt fist I turn back to Mary. If I said she was plastered an hour ago – I was definitely not right. She is completely plastered _now. _She is leaning the palm just as she was several seconds ago, an expression of couldn't-care-less attitude on her face, unfinished bottle of rum in her hand. She lazily shifts her eyes from Hands lying on the ground and back to me.

"Edward…take me away from here"

"Sure, lass. Come on"

I take the bottle from her hand, wrap her waste and she throws her hand round my neck. I start our way back into the camp but she shakes her head with a mixture of mumbling and giggling.

"what's up?" – I stop.

"let's have a...vo..vo..." – she give a wide yawn – "walk…the night is so beautiful…the stars are shining so bright"

I look into the sky and they look back at me with a frown of heavy clouds and a smirk of a tiny patch of moon open. A-ha. Very bright, Mary.

"You're dead pissed, lass" – I say but still change our course into the opposite direction, past Israel fucking Hands and further along the beach.

She is staggering from side to side but her eyes are open wide blankly staring at the long line of sand in front. I drag her closer to me to minimize this staggering and take a big gulp from the bottle.

"It wasn't you I was kissin' with?" – she finally breaks the silence.

"Nope, it was Israel fucking Hands"

"Jaysus…and I was wonderin' why the hell ya tongue suddenly became so…not like yours" – she giggles but soon unexpected sadness casts shadow upon her face and she falls silent for a while but then speaks again – "I'm an awful person…disgustin'"

"Why's that?"

"because…" – she groans – "no use in tellin' it you won't understand, Kenway"

"When was that time I didn't understand you?" – I make one more gulp.

"Even if you will… I don't want ya to know it"

"Like always"- I say with a straight face and look at her – "Enough of walking?"

She hems negatively and I sigh, though finish the rum, throw the bottle away and lift Mary in my arms deciding that in case we continue our walk I'd at least prefer to stop this constant inclines from side to side. We start moving further.

"you're so strong you are" – she says with a delicate smile stroking strained muscles on my forearm.

"Stop it, Mary, you behave like a plastered horny whore, you're not like this, lass"

Her hand moves from my forearm and up my neck to rest on the jawline making me look straight into her eyes. When she starts speaking her voice sounds gentle, without her usual sarcasm and mocking – purely sincere and open - and I frown realizing I've never seen her like this ever before.

"Edward, you're mad with me, I see it. Why?"

"I'm not, toss it" – I brush away shifting my eyes but next moment her hand returns me into looking in hers.

"Why?" – she repeats intently.

"I'll tell you. Tomorrow. When we're both sober"

Mary keeps looking at me with long stare as if weighing to agree or not and after a minute's silence she nods.

"Fine…put me down, please…we're already here"

I do as she asks, not précising what does her "here" means. She heavily flops down onto the sand then stretches her hand to me.

"Come on Kenway, join me there's one trick I wanted to show ya…" – she yawns – "…but was too irritated with ya, m'not now so sit down an' see it"

I make myself in front of her and furrow my brows when she takes a knife out of her pocket.

"You're going to cripple me now?"

"nope" – she giggles and offers her hand in gesture for me to stretch mine. Rather hesitantly I agree – anxious but intrigued – "one assassins couple once told me 'bout this trick, but I didn't have anyone to try it with so…finally I do and…" – she halters, sends me a glance, smiles a big happy smile so atypical of her and continues – "jos' listen to mah instructions"

"All right"

"turn your vision on, right now, will ya?"

"Done"

"I am gold-colored now?"

"Aye"

"Good, and so you are…then you're shining with silver for ya, right?"

"I am"

"Grand, now watch it, hope it works" – she says mysteriously and with a bright attention nod smudged even with alcohol dizziness I follow her actions with my eyes.

I frown even darker when Mary slightly runs the knife along her golden palm leaving a black bloody line but she doesn't notices my confusion keeping focused on her hand.

"My blood" – she says and takes my hand swiftly leaving the same black line on my own palm and I wrinkle with pain but keep the hiss inside – "your blood" – she finally looks at me and joins our bleeding palms. For a short while she keeps them pressed together and finally says – "our blood"

With rounded eyes I watch a strange purple glowing penetrating through the join where gold and silver meat. It starts as a faint sparkle but slowly becomes brighter and brighter. Purple sparkling blood drops down onto the sand staying a bright stain on the grey surface. I cast glance at Mary. Her eyes are open wide and a small smile is playing on her lips as she is stunned with this miracle no less than I am. Sensing my stare she raises her eyes.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Aye…I've never seen anything like this in my life"

"Me too…and I wasn't even believin' that couple, thought they were jos' fuckin' round, but still a part of me always wanted to try it" – she says slowly, trying not to stumble over words – "they said this trick was first discovered by Altair and his wife Maria Thorpe, she was an assassin too, remember I've told ya 'bout 'em?"

"That one who found the apple of Eden, had a fight with his mentor, killed him and became the leader of the brotherhood himself?" – Mary nods and I give a smirk – "Aye, I remember. And this Maria was with Templars first but when she met 'im she joined the brotherhood, right?"

"good memory you have…" – she smiles – "jos' imagine – thirty-five years together, they were inseparable, workin' for the best future of the brotherhood...I like their story, always liked"

"she was killed then as far as I remember and he lost her?"

"Aye. Strong woman she was, I respect her"

"I knew you'd say it" – I scoff and drop look on our hands still glowing with purple radiance – "and what's with this trick?"

"It was registered in the Codex he was writin' for the next ginerations of asazins…an' here w'are…usin' it…I jos' thought I wan' t'try it only wit'ya cause…you an' me an'…ya're a bastars an' still I… kind of love-…." – Mary yawns and her eyelids heavily droop down closing her eyes, she lurches forward, our hands part as I rush to catch her by the shoulders and lean to the trunk of the palm tree behind her back. My world is rocking a bit as the latest portion of rum turned out to have been absolutely unnecessary thing.

"You need to sleep lass you're tipsy as a thrush in a vineyard"

Mary opens her eyes and her intent stare makes me stop setting her in more or less comfortable position against the tree and look at her. We keep gazing at each other for a while and when it becomes rather odd to continue I shift my eyes. Then I feel Mary's hand on my shoulder and look at her again.

She doesn't say a word, only wraps her hands round my neck and drags me closer to her lips – half-open and awaiting for mine. She tastes like rum and coconut and in a short moment I deepen the kiss thinking of nothing else but this woman who has run through my life like a deadly typhoon, of Mary Read, who's turned my life upside down and made it unbelievable to exist without thinking of her each day, on and on and on. She's dragging her head back from me, teasing me and making me reach for her bending lower and lower whilst the bottom of her body, quite the contrary, is pressing against me, tighter and tighter. Slowly we appear in horizontal position but, as I'm bending for her on my knees, my hand is holding Mary's waist keeping her lifted in my grasp. I free her from her clothes very soon and enjoy the feeling of her lithe naked body pressed to my own, twisting back and forth, making sweet friction, till I realize I can't take it any longer and swiftly get rid of my shirt and pants.

"Kiss mah neck…" - Mary breathes out – "and then breast and…"

"Shh, I know what you like lass, relax and enjoy" - I cut her short with a snarling scoff.

But kissing and caressing don't last long as soon with a hungry moan Mary grasps my shoulders, thrusting her nails deep into the skin and I get her signal getting a better grip of her legs and slowly penetrating inside. She sighs, tilts her head back as I start moving and I, myself, cannot keep a sigh of pleasure. Mary is moaning quietly in my hands, feverishly when I hasten the speed and sensually when I slow down, repeating my name every now and then. Her hands are drowning in sand interlaced with mine each time I loosen grasp of her legs and bow low to kiss her. I start losing the track of time, fully dissolved in loving Mary, my head is slightly spinning and everything seems so surreal, so enchanting and so perfect as if I'm under the effect of some drowsing gas again…or maybe still under the spell of that miracle she shared with me, fortified with the great amount of rum I've drunk tonight. Our palms are bleeding – her right and my left – the scratches have started curdling but were disturbed with constant pressure and opened again, though nor Mary nor I seem to notice it. Feeling on the edge, growling like some predator, I keep on moving and…

Find myself gradually passing out. I blankly note Mary's loud moan, her body jerking and then going flaccid, her hands fully relaxing in my grip and my own body overwhelmed with sweet sensation after what I completely lose any sense of consciousness.

* * *

4:00

I open my eyes. Suddenly. As if I wasn't passed out but only closed them for a second to open again. The sky over my head is no longer dark, but pale grey as night is gradually dying under the faint rays of the sun lazily rising from the waters of the east. Rising into sitting position becomes a hard-won victory. My head is aching and the taste in my mouth is of that kind as if cats have peed into it while I was asleep. I rub my eyes and as I do the Sense goes crazy constantly turning on an off so that soon everything becomes flickering in front of my eyes. I shut eyelids for a moment and take a deep breath to calm down, then open them again.

The flickering has stopped but the Sense is still turned and before trying to return reality into its usual pattern I give my brain some time to get used to normal functioning. I look at Mary lying beside. She's shining with gold like always but suddenly one strange thing draws my attention and I furrow by brows. There's a faint purple radiance inside her, almost unnoticeable - enough for me to think my mind plays weird jokes with me. I rashly rub my eyes and shake my head. When I look at her again the vision fades. Mind games, just as I thought. The Sense goes crazy after me drinking too much, this I've noticed long before.

Finally the world becomes colored again. I cast a glance at the horizon and see that our ships have almost approached – twenty minutes before mooring, nor more nor less. Even from the distance I see _Jackdaw_ – she is sailing side by side with _Ranger_, like all that time we were heading for Thatch's island. _William_ and _Blackbeard_ are following a little bit behind. Between them I notice an enormous galleon – then they've eventually taken the _Queen Anne_ and all that time we've been stuck here wasn't in vain.

I pull my pants and shirt on. There are several things I have to do before leaving the island.

Let's start with the first.

I gather all the pieces of Mary's clothes, roll everything tight together so it would be easy to carry and clutch them under my arm with a smirk. She's sleeping like a log, not surprising taking in account how much rum she has drunk at night. I plant a light kiss on her forehead and deepen into the jungles. Here, far enough, I find a good high branchy tree and taking a better grasp of my burden start climbing up. On the highest branches I carefully hang Mary's clothes and feeling much content get down.

Done.

Fair revenge for her betrayal.

I still have some time to do the second thing I wanted to. I head back into the camp, meeting Vane and Emily on my way – they are lying in the fern bushes both passed out. I step over Charles' pants and put on pace. In the camp I find no one – Jack and Anne must be sleeping somewhere on the beach and Israel fucking Hands must have flaked out on that very spot where he was writhing after I broke his nose. I find paper, pen and inkpot in one of the boxes and start writing.

When I finish the ships signal mooring. I need to hurry before the noise wakes the others up. One note I've written I fold up and write "Mary" on top and the second one I leave open. Then hasten into the cave to take my robe and weapon. Our "door" I move to the right of the entrance so it would be easily noticed and taking a small knife pin two notes against the wooden surface.

That's done.

I look around – still no one to spot. Feeling content, but rather bitter in my heart, I move deep into the water ignoring the morning tidal waves and soon I'm already climbing up my _Jackdaw. _The crew bursts into cheering shouts, I shake hands, get hearted pats on the shoulder and jolly lines each say welcoming me back aboard our lass. Then, after everyone has said their say I run up the stairs onto the quarterdeck where Ade is waiting for me with the widest smile I've ever seen on him.

"Hey, captain! Just look at yourself! Being marooned was good for you" – he laughs as we share a comrade hug.

He starts telling me of how they were boarding the _Queen Anne _and why they were so long to come back for us but I cut him short as I spot someone's motion on the shore.

"Hold on Ade, more of it later. Set sails, we have to hurry"

"But what about the others?"

"They have their own ships. Remember our plan with Roberts? Set sails for that course, I'll talk to the crew about it later"

He frowns giving me a long stare and shaking his head in disapproval.

"I know how you feel 'bout the Observatory Ade, but if it's really this close we have to find her! We'll all be as rich as kings, don't you understand?! It's so damn close!" – I persuade him fervently and, still with bright reluctance though, he nods.

"For the last time. If it slips through our fingers again the matter will be closed and forgotten. The crew will understand once again, but men are tired of hunting for your dream, Edward. And this is the last time"

"Aye. I know"

I run my fingers over the helm feeling happy to finally be on my Jackdaw, not in a dream, but in reality. Then nod to Ade who takes the helm and starts commanding to weight anchor and set sails, and walk down into my cabin. It's just the same as it was when I left it on that evening before the storm. I pass my hand along the round table, take a big gulp of rum from the bottle I pass and finally reach the hammock flopping down into it and closing my eyes.

My left hand is aching reminding me of Mary. But before any feeling of regret comes into my mind I'm already dropped into deep and dreamless sleep.


	3. Drunk and Feeling Fine

**This time I did it faster, though my study woudn't say thank you to me. Guess next weak there will be a delay as I will have to catch up doing lots of home work, but I will try to cope with it as quick as I can. I'm hoping you'll like this chapter, it's pretty tensed, I wanted to write one more scene but then just simply thought it would be better to start the next chapter by Mary with it so here that's what we have.**

* * *

3

Drunk and Feeling Fine

"More"

I utter and put down some coin on the counter. The bartender frowns at me with clear aversion on his face – nothing surprising. In his eyes I'm a woman who forgot her place – wearing men clothes, walking like a woman and talking like a man, fighting and killing. And drinking like a lord the third night in a row.

All four weeks after we got out of the island I've been taking it fine. I carried my quartermaster duties as if nothing happened, behaving in my usual manner. Everything went back into the usual routine – we were hunting for Spanish vessels profiting on their payloads and silently pillaging plantations. Once I was surprised with a sudden unplanned bleeding I had – it lasted only a day and after talking to Anne who had the same problem we decided that maybe we ate something bad back on the island or stress was the reason. Probably that was the only unusual event during our sailing. Like always I was controlling the crew, holding count and dividing the booty we've been getting. Nothing showed that what happened on the island touched me in any possible way.

But then when we finally got ashore on Great Inagua I couldn't take it any longer and as far as here no one needed to count on me and I didn't have to carry any duties I decided I can finally loose myself and give the open-doors to feelings which finding no way out were already about to smash all my entrails and in a wish for release forced me to press the crew with bitchy mood.

The mean bartender brings me another bottle with rum, not caring to open it and pour into the mug but still taking all the coins I've left, though there's definitely a lot more than one bottle of this rum that is more of a piss in taste costs, but what does money matter at all comparing with all the other things? I've got sure of this long time ago, that time when…

No. No need to remember one more man when I'm all broken down because of the other already. I uncork the bottle with my teeth and poor the disgusting liquid inside in big greedy gulps. It scorches my throat badly but when I finish it feels almost fine inside. I look around for a pretty boy to pass the time with but all the rare faces of the latest tavern visitors around belong to the men of my crew. They won't do, I don't need a man on the ship to start underestimating my authority only because of one night spent together. And…

To be honest – is there any sense of finding a boy to pass the time if I know it will all end up just like it did yesterday night when after finding one pretty blond and taking him into my quartermaster cabin I jerked away like a scalded cat the moment he penetrated inside and had to ask him to get out of the ship after what my guts spilled and I spent the end of the night hugging the bucket.

Anne, Emily and Satine were trying to persuade me to come back to senses and Jack, after Anne had had a prolong talk with him, came over to hold me a company and try to cheer me up in his easy-going manner but I can't say it really helped. Eventually they left me be, though I still felt Anne's eyes on me watching if I would do anything stupid, but under wondering looks of our crew I just continued my little "just-sorrow-and-I" party.

So many bottles on the tabletop beside me and it still hurts so bad, how much should I drink to shut my heart up? This I'll never know as each night I'm hoping to get away with feelings and each night I fail my mission cause it becomes only worse and those words he left me in that letter are as if imprinted on my eyeballs making me read them again and again.

* * *

That morning I woke up alone lying on the sand as naked as the day I was born. Clothes were nowhere to find and tortured with killing headache I headed back into our camp running from bush to bush to conceal my disgrace. I remembered it well at night I started doing what I had finally decided to – become softer with Edward and let him in, let him love me and let myself love him without any doubts, see the man he is instead of the better man I was dreaming he'll oneday become. I remembered it well Edward and I had been making love at night, I remembered the miracle of Altair and Maria I had shared with him in order to show how much he means to me, but I couldn't understand where the hell he had disappeared with my clothes and what else I had been doing that night.

When I reached the camp I saw our ships moored not far from the shore – every ship but the Jackdaw and it perplexed me. I lurked in the bushes near the grassy glade before the cave and as Anne was passing by hissed to draw her attention. I thought she'd laugh at the embarrassing situation I got into but she only gave me an odd compassionate look and headed for my clothes as I asked her leaving me even more perplexed.

She came back with my favorite outfit which I hadn't been wearing whilst staying on the island not to damage it and I put it on with bright pleasure, enjoying the feeling of good fabric touching my skin. When I was done Anne stretched me some paper looking strangely sad as if bringing news of somebody's death.

Not a good feeling stirred in my heart when I recognized Edward's writing on top, addressing this note precisely to me. I unfolded it and as I begun to read my brows furrowed and I felt as if someone punched me in the stomach.

**_To my dear and beloved Mary_**

**_If you read this letter then you must have already found something to wear and my little revenge loses its sense so I can tell you now that your (or better say mine) pants and shirt are hanged in the jungles not far from the place you woke up. You may leave it there, I allow you._**

**_As for stealing all your clothes and hiding them whilst you were lying passed out – don't think I did this because I was drunk, don't fool yourself and know that I am not sorry._**

**_I want to thank you for being a "loyal" friend to me and I don't think I'd ever be able to express the whole "gratitude" I feel for you._**

**_Now you must be thinking "Jaysus what the bloody hell he's talking about?" and I understand your perplexity for you are always perfect and innocent and it is I who always fuck things up. Let me remind you of the minor thing you've done to deserve this. I reckon this really must be such a trifle to you that is damn hard to be remembered so fast but, don't worry, I'm always ready to help you – remember telling your charming brotherhood of my plans? Or maybe of my location? Or you've just accidently blabbed it out having a cup of tea with Ah Tabai? I'm sure you already have an excuse prepared in your head cause you're so smart my dear sweet lass, aren't you?_**

**_I'm an idiot as you often say. Yes, I am. And it was so hard for my poor stupid brain to come to the realization I should have reached long time ago but was too blunt or too blind to do it. In my own defense I must remind you our heart to hearts and our love we shared – this must have been the reason for my blindness. Stupid, isn't it? But, at last, with a great lag I suddenly saw the truth. Yes, with a great lag but don't forget I'm only a wretched idiot so don't you blame me._**

**_To be honest when I first saw the red sails of The Prancing trailing Jackdaw to Africa I thought he had been just stalking her for a long time already and there was nothing to be surprised about, I knew your brotherhood would never let me be whilst I'm searching for the Observatory they are so fussy to keep hidden from everyone but them. I'm sure you will admit now that the absence of The Prancing following us to Thatch's island and then not appearing whilst we were stuck in here is a rather curious thing, don't you think so? I definitely do._**

**_I express my deepest regrets for your little intrigue to have been revealed but as we all know – sometimes even the darkest of idiots have their bright moments._**

**_It kills me to say it but I realized that maybe I don't deserve such a good friend by my side. Then not to burden you with my constant stupid words of love I suggest you to leave my house on Great Inagua and turn over the handling of my business to one of the clerks you will find suitable._**

**_You may still spend your time on my island, but don't you worry, I allow you this not because I wish to see you again but only because I'm still stupid enough to care for you a lot and don't want you to be caught by the navy and sent to prison as such a danger is quite real on any other island but Great Inagua. You may also keep the ring I've given you since I still keep my word even if you don't find it worthy to keep yours._**

**_Now that I have apologized to you and explained my actions and suggestions, I know that I'm forgiven. I sincerely hope that oneday I will find enough strength in my heart to forgive you as well, but considering the fact that I've told you how mortally I hate betrayal, I wouldn't cherish hopes it happens in the nearest future._**

**_Thank you for the sex at night, it was amazing even though you've passed out._**

**_Sincerely yours_**

**_Edward_**

**_P.S. Your underwear you will find run up the "rack" in the cave just near the words «fucked traitor» written on the wall so you won't miss it. I'm sorry your knickers are still a bit wet but unfortunately I don't have time to dry them up, though I don't think the others will notice._**

**_Or I simply don't care._**

**_P.P.S. I didn't spill into you at night, don't worry you won't have to be raising a bastard from such a jerk like me._**

When I finished reading my hands were shaking so bad that Anne embraced me and burying my nose into her shoulder I hardly suppressed the sob coming from inside and she started softly stroking my back though I wished she didn't do it as it only made me want to burst into crying.

"Jack read it out loud before I could stop him and take it away, I'm so sorry Mary" – she whispered.

I made a terrible attempt and drew myself back from her feeling the sorrow slightly stepping aside exchanged with more usual and natural feeling for me – with anger. I came into the cave with my head high – there Vane and Rackham were writhing with laughter, along with Israel scoffing, they were reading some other note in which Edward described in details what each every one of us had casted at night. When I came in Israel found some decency to portray respectful attitude and walk out of the cave but Jack and Charles only boosted their laugher under a new tide of jolliness. I looked at the wall where precisely those words that Edward mentioned in the note were written in big letters with a coal and took those only things that were hanged on our stick-rack – my underwear. With this I left the cave without an eyelid stirred that would show them I care for teasing lines they were giving me.

But when I left the cave and past Anne and Emily headed to our ship my armor gave a crack.

Never ever in my life I felt so crushed and diminished. No one in my life has ever humiliated me this much as Edward did this time. He dragged me through the mud, used as a door-mat and what's even worse beyond all the fury I realized I deserved this. I fancied myself smarter and better than him, used his feelings to cover my actions and said not a word to him putting a good face on a sorry business. It's such a shame but I was more furious because of my disclosure than of the deed I made. I just wanted to protect him…

* * *

…But hardly this excuse justifies me now as I could have told him everything straightaway. He would have certainly been angry with me, but at least it wouldn't look like betrayal. I could have explained why I did this I could…and now it's too late.

Too fucking late.

I take another bottle leaving a coin on the counter and stand up to have a walk about the town and stretch my numb limbs. The path is winding before me like a snake and I slow down not taking risk moving faster. Another gulp of the shitty rum and I bite my tongue till it tastes like blood just not to let tears leave my eyes and sobs slip my lips. Big girls don't cry, even if it hurts so bad breaking the heart they don't cry. At least those girls who willingly choose men's destiny. My back is aching, probably rebelling after three weeks of constant standing behind the helm, I arch a little bit, rub it and continue my dizzy way.

I don't notice the path has taken me to the top of the hill and stop in front of the big house all surrounded with beautiful fragrant flowers and bushes. The house that is forever closed for me now. I encompass the porch and appear on the backyard, approach the carcass of the broken windmill and make myself on the tumbledown wall.

There's no fury left in me – only regret and sorrow and they are ten times worse.

Stronger than sorrow of losing him is that one telling me that most likely Edward will never come back again. If he messed with Roberts – he's a dead man. The Sage is cruel, intelligent and unpredictable, he will use Edward and bring him to his grave. I counted on Stefano to somehow look after Edward and help him if the need appears but now it is no longer possible. Four weeks have passed and there is no news of him - probably he is already dead.

And here I am again – broken and crippled.

Suddenly my eyes go dark and I stab my nails into the stones of the wall to save balance. Gradually it sets me free and I jump down into the thick soft bush.

"_You look so angry when you sleep, your face a troubled frown_" – I absent-mindedly start a song that suddenly comes into my mind whilst I'm staring into the cold clear dark sky.

"_So I will smooth your furrowed brow as I lay in the ground_" - Somehow I feel it suits my state just fine. Somehow I feel a strange certainly Edward is dead.

"_I'll kiss you once for life; I'll kiss you twice for death"_– I howl the words rising, feeling dead myself and start sauntering back to the front of the house.

"_I'll hold you close for comfort, wearin' mah best dress"_ – I reach the stony wall designating the manor area and look back at the house again.

"_An' as the mourners pass me, I will smile an' wave"_- an ill smile appears on my lips as I turn round and let the path slowly take me to the town down the hill. Step by step. Very slowly and very mournfully.

"_Thank 'em for their sympathy an' tell 'em I'll be brave. _

_But once the wake is over, and Ah'm drunk and feelin' fine _

_I'll go out there an' find me another boy to pass the time"_

With a sudden tide of energy I turn away from the path towards the jungles not ready to come back and meet Anne's reproaches and compassion yet. I sway up to the wide gap between the trees – the easiest entrance into the jungles – and there I freeze enough wrecked to step forward and let some panther put an end to my misery but too chicken-hearted before death to do it. I turn back instead and start wondering along the border between jungles and the town keeping roaring the song on my way, feeling sure it is heard back in the town but not giving a shit and just roaring the song even louder as if a wolf howling at the moon.

"_As we're dancin' cheek to cheek an' the lights are laid low_

_I'll request this song for you, lyin' in the ground below_

_Once the song is over, I decide to go to bed_

_I'll leave 'im on the dance floor an' return to you instead"_

I reach the place where Edward and I had a row that time when I was back from Italy and got pissed off with him being drunk and hugging some whore lying with her on the table. It seems to happen so long time ago but when I reach the palm against which I've crashed that expensive bottle of wine aiming at Edward, I can still see the fragments of thick glass scattered there.

I make myself on the grass staring at the magnificent sight of the endless smooth surface of the sea stretching behind those rocks that conceal the town from unwanted attention, at the _Queen Anne _moored not far from the shore with all the guns moved to one side protecting the island.

"_I'll kiss you once for life; I'll kiss you twice for death"_ – I mutter slowly and rest my back on the bushes and it echoes with that faint boring pain gradually dying away.

"…_holdin' close for comfort…an' return to you instead…"_

A lonely tear rolls down my cheekbone as I take out the ring hanging on my neck and watch it shining reflecting the moonlight. How could I be wondering if I was ready to let him take away everything I had when he has already taken everything himself without asking for my permission? I miss him so much and if he's dead now…

"I can't go through it again, not the second time… I won't make it the second time God, please"

Someone's heavy steps reach me, I've been hearing them for quite some time but stayed indifferent, not caring if it is a friend or some jerk following me to rape here where nobody would see it. My eyes stare at big black boots, as the man stops by the bushes I'm lying in, then start a slow accent up noting black pants with laps of black jacket drooping on both sides, then thick grey shirt tied with string on tanned chest with short black hair, the same tanned neck ending with wide jawline and determined chin covered with three-days black stubble. Once neck-long black hair he had whilst staying on the island is now cut in a short neat style. And as my observation ends on black, as his whole appearance, eyes, kind wrinkles gather in their corners as the man reveals a warm but rather mocking wry smile.

"Mary Read" – Israel drawls – "Anne said if I find you I would find you dead pissed but to be honest I thought she was just exaggeratin'"

To be honest I expected to see Israel Hands the least of all, he must have just moored because I haven't seen his ship there all these days, but I say nothing whilst he seems to be savoring the moment.

"While searching for ya, as Anne asked me to…by the way she's really furious with your sneaking. So…what was I 'bout?...Oh yeah! While searching for ya, I've been wonderin' what was it to keep you getting' plastered every night since you're ashore, but as I heard you singin' amongst the trees like some banshee it became clear to me what was that reason" – he sits down beside me and draws my hand to help me move into sitting position – "this moron again, am I right?"

Two weeks before I would agree with this characteristic of Edward with great pleasure but now I'm not able to restore any frustration I felt towards him at first place, I just miss him so badly. Israel sighs watching me whilst I'm watching only the play of moonlight on water.

"He must be dead now" – I say without any expression.

"What?" – I look at Israel at once and see a frowning grimace on his face – "I saw him two days ago on my way to Inagua and he seemed quite alive as for me. Why the hell ya think he would be dead at all?"

"But I…" - I blink frequently. I got so accustomed to the idea I will never see Edward again that it is hard to believe opposite at once.

"Silly women" – Israel shakes his head sighing – "always make up bullshit without a fair reason"

"Did he say when he's comin' back?"

Israel noisily breathes out in a way telling that if he had to choose between kissing a shark and talking about Edward Kenway he'd certainly choose the first variant. Still with bright reluctance he tells.

"He's okay your Edward Kenway. His Jackdaw is safe and sound and after we shared a lovely exchange of pleasantries he even told me he's goin' to come back on Inagua in a month or so after he finishes business in Havana and Kingston, he's lookin' for some blueprints as far as I got it. Also said somethin' about Ben Hornigold, think he's gonna kill'im" – he looks at me with reproach – "Content now? Can't understand why you're still into this man after what he did on the island" – he finishes darkly and I feel rum starts to slowly let go of me as the world around becomes much clearer and my tongue is almost not stumbling now while my fighting spirit wakes up and kicks the melancholy aside.

"Oh really? Edward has never tried to use mah drunk state for his benefit, as distinct from you, man"

"In that note he said that he fuc-"

"I know what he said there, and it's a lie, I wanted his love and I was awake to enjoy it, it puts an end to this nasty gossip you see?"

"Then you didn't want me to kiss you that time?"

"I thought you were Edward, sorry"

"Aye, my mistake…shouldn't have swooped upon you so abruptly. Were you really repeating his name while I was kissin' you? Cause I think I was so into you that I didn't even hear a thing"

"Aye I was"

"Dammit" – I look at him and he seems really disappointed. Has he really fallen for me this much? When and why did it happen? From staring at his feet he raises his black eyes back to me with a bitter smirk – "Am I so ugly, Mary?"

"What?!" – I linger on his thin nicely curved lips, on his nose slightly displaced but not spoiling the picture and give a scoff – "no, course you're not, you're very handsome Israel"

"Then you know what? just forget about Kenway for a second an' think of me. An' I would kiss you and we'll see if there's somethin' stirred inside. I see you're not too plastered for it an' I'm not askin' for somethin' just try maybe you'll like it"

His offer brings contradictions fighting in me – on one hand I don't want it, it seems like another betrayal but on the other...why not? It costs me nothing and we'll finally put an end to this once and for all. Moreover…Edward left me, his letter was filled with cold fury… and he was so cruel as I've never known him before. I don't know if he will ever forgive me.

"You'll never know till you-"

"All right, mate, bring it on" – though having a stubborn wish to spite Edward my consent is impelled by pure curiosity fortified with rum and not by hope to start forgetting him. I don't want to though understand that I have to. I will. One day.

And so I'm looking at Israel waiting for him to start. He halters for a moment, this man looks like the complete opposite of Edward with this blackness of his features, but his black hair and stubble remind me of Will which is even nice. I'm trying to concentrate on him only and throw Kenway out of my head for just a minute.

Israel sits closer fully turning to me so that we're sitting opposite to each other, raises his hand and cups my face rubbing his fingers along the dried track left by that single tear while his other hand stays stroking my neck bringing pleasant sensation of this delicate touches. He draws closer but stops till it's an inch left and I can even hear how air quietly comes in and out of his nose. He has fluffy dark eyelashes and almost transparent scar crossing his cheekbone that I've never noticed before. I look in his eyes – black but this blackness is warm opposite to sharks' hollow black voids – then shift on his slightly opened lips.

I move closer but the same slowly he draws back saving a tiny gap between us, with half-closed eyes I move to finally destroy it but he draws back again making me wish it badly to get this kiss at last. We freeze for a moment – his calm breath on my lips and mine on his – then I lean a minor motion towards him, not completely but so that we barely touch and he rewards me finally capturing my lips with his. I try to deepen the kiss right away but he doesn't let me do this and makes me be satisfied with gentle light touches of our lips and I don't notice my hands reaching out towards him to wrap around his neck.

He encompasses my shoulders, waist and hips and pulls them against him and at the same time as our tongues touch my legs grapple around his waist and not able to pretend cold any longer I thrust my fingers into his hair giving a muffled moan. This lazy kiss is pleasant but what makes me tremble is the contrast created with his hands feverishly running up and down my back, rubbing my collarbone, thighs, hands, cupping my face and clasping my breasts hidden underneath several layers of clothes.

His hand moves down and rests on my groin but when he carefully puts pressure with his fingers several things happen at the same time. The scar on the right palm pangs me, Edward's face flashes before my eyes and sudden sickness twists my guts. I jerk back and rashly crawl aside to bend over the bush throwing the stream of vomit out shaking with my whole body till finally it is over and there is nothing left to go out though the sickness stays.

I turn back to Israel wiping my mouth as I do, he looks shocked to put it mildly but what could I do to myself when my body betrayed me at the most interesting moment.

"Sorry it's not the kiss, I jos' don't feel good these days, guess should really stop drinkin' it already drives my body crazy"- I assure him shivering and punting – "the kiss was very grand, believe me, you're really good in this"

Israel took me back to the _William _supporting me all the way as I refused to let him carry me. When we were walking down the pier approaching the ship he asked me if I'll agree to have a walk with him someday and I agreed though feeling not sure I will ever carry this promise out. Anne and Emily helped me to reach my cabin. Anne was grumbling and lecturing me all the way but I promised her I'll end up with drinking and at least with this promise I felt certain. It's when I flopped down onto my bed did it happen that Anne lost her temper and we ended up calling each other bitches and whores and Anne left the cabin with a slam of the door after what Emily showed herself from the best side and told me those words that brought me back to senses completely. She reminded me of the self-esteem and of how much I worth and if I really want Edward when he's back to see me drunk and broken falling in his opinion or would I prefer being the same strong and kicking in his eyes to make him regret for breaking up with me. She covered me with blankets and left the cabin carefully closing the door behind her leaving me to observe the planks of the wooden ceiling and reflecting everything through.

I decided that the most important is that Edward is fine and so it means I can continue living a normal life though without him but knowing that at least he's alive. I should visit Tulum as my soul lost any hint of peace and balance which Ah Tabai was working hard to implant into me for several years just for me to lose them so easily after falling for bloody Edward Kenway. Once Tulum have already brought my spirit back – it will do it again as I know that no matter how far would I drift away the brotherhood will always take me back.

I turn the Sense on and look at the scar on my palm – it is glowing with faint almost transparent purple radiance.

The rest of the night I spent writhing above the bucket not realizing how can I still feel ready to spill if there is completely nothing left inside but bile and water. Every time do I feel the sleep taking me I suddenly jump up to pee or to throw out, again and again and again, so that when the day starts breaking I already feel myself drained and exhausted and there's a face I don't recognize in the mirror, so pale and ill that I feel vomit coming anew. To say there had been worse nights in my life is to lie. This night was the living hell and when I'm finally lying on my bed feeling not a limb I can move I swear myself I'd take alcohol inside never again in my life. I guess I'm becoming old as ever in my life I would have such a reaction after long drinking sprees and I had them a lot I would say. A week passed and my month bleeding didn't come and plus the state I'm in right now a crazy idea of a babe comes into my head but brush it away as something impossible as in that note Edward told he didn't spill the seed inside me. Besides I remember several times I wouldn't have month bleeding in the past and it was okay as the next month it was coming out as usual. Maybe I caught some kind of disease or infection and that's why it's so bad this time?

This day I will spend lying a dead body on my bed and from tomorrow on I'd be back again, pulled together, strong and kicking. I just really hope everything's fine with me and I didn't catch something contagious and deadly.

* * *

**Argh...I know Edward's letter is awefully cruel but I promise he'd be feeling so bad about it in the next chapter! And I know many of you would be happy to beat me for writing this scene of Mary kissing with Israel but...Avast :D And I'm so excited I'm finally writing about Mary's pregnancy I wanted to be writing it for so long already but there were other chapters to be written before it but now - yeah!**

**And yeah, I couldn't fight a wish to add another song - it is Florence and The Machine - Best Dress it's just really reminds me of Mary everytime I listen to it (and I know they didn't have this song back then but in my defence I'd say they readlly didn't have the Assassins that time as well).  
Have nice weekends everyone! =)  
**

**Bye**


	4. The Matters of Faith

**Hell yeah, I made it and wrote a new chapter faster than I thought I would and now I can focus on writing my term paper. This one is more of reflecting than of adventures or some serious events but I hope you'll like it as well and as I promised Edward is totally regretting everything he's done, heh heh ;)**

* * *

4

The Matters of Faith

September passed. The whole month passed since we were marooned on that island and even though back then I wished for salvation so badly now I feel that I even miss those days. Why?

I wouldn't think of it.

The present is what counts and my every day I start with this thought sending any sad feeling to wait or better to for fuck's sake vanish at all.

At the highest speed we had been sailing to meet Roberts, rushed forward as the time pressed to hasten knot by knot till Ade had to stop my mania telling me if there be one more knot our Jackdaw would just crack. And even so, to my relieve, we reached the destination just in time, on that very night our plan was to be carried out. Hardly we've taken breath back before I commanded men to set sails again and we came into the misty night winding the narrow way with sharp rocks surrounding Jackdaw on both sides testing my skills of steering as just one slight mistake was needed to damage my lass and our plan to be crashed down with the Portuguese noticing us before we even made the first step.

Roberts had been standing there, next to me on the quarterdeck, seeming pretty content with how everything had been going. It seems I've gained his trust, enough at least to treat me as a full-fledged partner in this searching for the Observatory and to be honest I get his attitude towards both Templar and Assassins. Who'd like to be a small coin hunted by each of the sides considering the fact that none of them wishes him a long lasting life.

But I'm not naïve - I don't trust him. There's something wrong behind these cold cunning eyes. Something that makes me keep myself alarmed, I didn't forget him pressing gunpoint at Mary's temple he would easily shot her that night if luck wasn't on her side – lives of other people mean nothing to this man. And something tells me there's a lot more he keeps to himself than he lets me know and I don't like this. Too cruel and too slippery he seems to me and I don't like the cheerfulness he finds looking at people dying. But I have no other way to find the Observatory he promised to lead me to. I'm just hoping the moment he'd try to trip me up I will be ready for it.

We took the flagship, we smashed every vessel that would drift into our way, we finally got what we were looking for – the small chest. Small chest, isn't it hilarious? But what was there was valuable as Roberts insisted. That little thing with tiny drop of blood inside which I looted from Duncan Walpole's body – there were more of them there in that chest. With blood of Rogers, Torres and…Ben. I'm scared of the idea I would meet him in the fight to the death and at the same time I understand one day I will have to, it is inevitable.

But what use of these little cubes? The Observatory…what secrets does it hide?

Roberts laughs at my intentions. For him it is easy – a merry life and a short one. Something not really inspiring for me, I'm planning to leave a long life in riches after finding the Observatory and selling it to someone for a huge royal price. And then go back to England, enough of piracy for me, enough of West Indies – time to go home. Maybe Caroline would take me back once I show her I've accomplished everything I planned, maybe she would change her mind. Nothing is keeping me here any longer.

Roberts and I arranged to meet later, he promised to finally show me the Observatory but not earlier than in two months, said he had some tasks at hand.

So many maps with locations of hidden treasures I had and that's exactly what I decided to do first of all. Though I'm lying - the idea of going back on Great Inagua was the first to cross my mind but I brushed it away knowing there I can meet _her_. And I wasn't ready to see her face yet, not so soon, not while I'm still angry about her dirty betrayal.

And so I went furrowing the seas of West Indies – visited small islands with no settlements at all and big ones with towns of Havana and Kingston where I paid visits to the assassins' bases just to say hello to my comrades I once helped there even though I knew they'd send the bird to Tulum just the minute I'm gone.

I've locked thoughts of treacherous Mary Read deep inside, locked them in the imaginary house, nailed all the doors and windows with heavy planks, so tight that there was no way for them to run away. I threw the key and abandoned the place. She had to become no more important for me than the day I first met her as James Kidd. That was my plan and first two weeks it seemed to be working well but everything changed on the night when she came into my dream and smashed that imaginary house into pieces easily destroying my every defense I was so determined to keep sturdy and spiky.

And the anger faded away and what was left was only regret and anguish. And somehow the thoughts of going back to England and returning to Caroline if she would take me back, died. There was a way to get away with this when it was the sun to lighten everything around and I was busy and there were people talking, singing, joking, complaining, demanding…distracting. But when the moon and stars changed the day, the crew would quite down and each man would seem to be taken with the same thoughts that would hunt me down as well. I reckon every lad on the ship has his sweet lass to think of, has reminiscences to remember, the dreams of happy future to be longing for.

When did it happen that Mary became the dream of my own? …and every night feelings for her would escape the carcasses of that broken house – to pang, to stab, to crash, to torture.

I did bought whores when I was ashore, tried to do everything to forget Mary but each time a lass would take a lead gaining her position on top of me and beginning to move I couldn't get rid of the feeling everything she did was wrong and not the way _she _did that. And so in a sharp spurt I would make a lass under me, taking my pleasure with my eyes closed, captivated with the sight I was too weak to drive out of my mind – hair as black as night, her red lips, this pretty scar, beautiful light-brown eyes, tanned sinewy body with that tattoo on her chest.

There wasn't a man or woman ever closer to me than Mary was. She was my soul-friend. Not just someone to fuck with. No rum there was in the world to shut my heart up. It craved for her. And with all the bitter taste of these words I know the chance to meet such a woman with whom I feel so good, so free and so alive ever again in my life is negligibly poor. If there's a heaven in this world for me it was there when I had my sharp-tongued grumpy Mary Read snuggled up to me, her head resting on my chest, I held her tight in my embrace, slowly stroking her skin while talking on and on and on, about everything that came into our heads, for hours. And there was nothing I would feel I can't tell her. I never thought I would ever think the whole world of someone but bloody Mary Read proved the opposite.

But she deserved this…I had to repeat it to myself all the time to remember it and not let feelings dominate because if I let them to it would mean I value my own self too low and have no men pride. I knew what I had been doing and now there's no way back for she is sure to hate me after what I've done and I can't give in to her even if she is ready to make peace and forget about everything. But knowing Mary…doubt she is. It's more possible she would try to kill me for humiliating her or at least to cripple.

It's too late. Too fucking late.

To be honest I'm just blabbing it all trying to justify myself in my own eyes. To be honest this is all bullshit.

To be honest I'm ashamed. And I'm a coward. I'm simply terrified of meeting her and looking into her eyes.

* * *

After a month of our sailing, on one hot sunny day I was standing behind the helm, alone as Ade had been steering for the whole night while I had been taking rest and now was having a nap in his cabin in the hold. I saw a friendly ship moving the same way, it promised to approach Jackdaw very soon. Strong wind was blowing from the right and I didn't want to let go off the helm even for a second and so I shouted the lad in the crow's nest to look through the spyglass and see whose ship was that as from the distance I could only see the black flag they were flying under.

"The Blackbeard!"

Israel fucking Hands, well met!

I screamed to shorten sails, the sudden wind has withered and the Jackdaw fully stopped. It's not that I was glad to see Israel fucking Hands, but he was one of my closest acquaintances, not to call friend of course, but I hadn't seen nor Charles nor Jack (which is good as if I met Jack I would have certainly met his quartermaster too) and I just wanted to have a chat with someone who must have been in the know of how the others were doing.

The black brig was heading for us on high speed and when it was about four hundred yards started slowing down. Soon it was close enough for me to see clearly the captain standing behind the helm and Israel waved me with a wry smile on which I responded in the same way. Her straightened the Blackbeard parallel to the Jackdaw and stopped as close as it was possible, leaving a small gap between the ships. The anchors were dropped and I sauntered down to the waistdeck to meet Hands on the portside.

His father and his quartermaster – Joseph Hands – leaned over the deckside and I did the same to share a firm handshake with him and exchange several friendly lines when Israel came up. Both standing on the narrow surface of decksides of our ships, straight as two arrows we shook hands piercing each other with restrained watchful gazes.

"Kenway"

"Hands"

The air seemed vibrating itself with the hostile energy stuck between the two of us. With malicious joy I noted his nose was slightly displaced knitted badly after I had broken it. With his own malicious joy he casted a look at the wound on my arm I got hunting a shark five days ago. Nor he nor I ever wished death to each other, but seeing one another a little bit damaged was a different matter. For a moment no one said a word only sending dark firm looks.

"Hey, did we all stop jos' for ya two ta stand still like two bulls b'fore the attack?!" – Hands senior laughed heartedly – "Oh lord, like two little boys as you are. Let's have some tea t'gether, Captain Kenway, welcome aboard the Blackbeard, feel yaself home" – he made a welcoming gesture. I sent the oldman a smile and with a second of delay Israel did stepped back giving me a way to pass on his ship.

There we made ourselves on a quarterdeck sitting on chairs by the barrel with a table laid on it for the lunch time. Then did it happen that the atmosphere smoothed itself and the tension if it had been so mighty lost its heat and the more we ate and drank the more warm the conversation was getting. Out of jealousy I realized I had forgotten that Israel fucking Hands was never bad a chap after all.

We talked about recent news of the British and their latest tough clampdown towards piracy which was no surprising in regard of Woodes Rogers and I told them about him and his plan to get rid of piracy once and for all in West Indies as he had done it on Madagascar. The fact that I was going to free our world from this man possibly along with his closest ally – our former friends Ben Hornigold - I also shared with them. In the end did I tell them I was going to be back on Great Inagua in a month time – the information they didn't need but I had a faint coward hope Israel would see Mary there, on Inagua where he was heading, and probably would accidently tell her this information. I was hoping that in a month I would certainly be having enough strength to step over my fear and meet her. Damn, no woman in my life ever made me this terrified.

After an hour or two I stood up, stretched myself feeling content as a drowsy cat and Israel accompanied me to the deckside as I was leaving. Another handshake, now parting, and I stepped across the gap between the ships on board my Jackdaw.

"You know I consider you a moron after what you did to Mary!"

His shout took me by surprise as I was already turning to walk up the stairs and command men to weigh anchor but stopped and returned to stand in front of him. We knew this topic had been floating somewhere nearby all the time we had been eating, drinking and laughing but as I was ready to think it luckily wasn't going to come out on surface today it failed my expectations.

"Don't you shout like this, want everyone to know 'bout it?" – I snapped at him.

"I would surely like everyone know what _you _did, for everyone to know what a bastard you are, Kenway, but I respect her too much to let them know, this broke her even that all her friends knew what was in that letter, those nasty humiliating things you've done"

"What?! That letter was for her only!"

"And didn't you even think someone else would read it? Don't you know what your friends are 'bout? Jack for instance?"

"Did he do that?"

"Aye, he did, screamed our every word perfectly clear and then she came, some ten minutes after, looking as a stony statue, took her things from that cave and left straight to the ship. Is there any brain in your fucking head? Or a heart in your chest?"

"You don't understand, Hands, you don't know everything, she deser-…"

"Even if she does if you really love her how could you treat her like that I ask you, how?! D'you even imagine what she feels now? I tried to make her see I'm always at her service but she didn't even want to listen to it, you, fucking selfish Edward Kenway is constantly in her head, how can't you understand this, man? I would give anything for such woman to feel something similar towards me but you've just thrown these all away and stamped into the mud, the jerk you are"

He finished furiously puffing the air in and out of his nostrils but only a second took him to pull himself back into his usual cool and restrained posture.

"You're moron, Kenway, and she'd be right if she never speaks to your again" –he sharply turned around and up to the helm of the Blackbeard shouting brisk orders to his crew to get everything ready to continue the way on Inagua. I stood there as if pinned, my eyes freezed looking at the wood of the deckside but not seeing it. Realizing what I did is one thing but hearing these everything said by Israel fucking Hands, embodied into merciful truthful words as if a passed sentence was completely different.

"Captain" - I startled as one of the lads patted me on the shoulder and turned to him – "are you all right, captain?"

"Aye" – I gulped down – "right" – I looked at the men finishing their meal and waiting for orders and forced myself to clutch the panging feelings into a tight fist and focus on more important things at the moment. I'm captain, I must be the one to lead the others, I can't let myself grow soft – "weigh anchor, lads!" – I shouted with more sturdy voice and stamped my steps to the quarterdeck to take my place behind the helm.

"Israel!" – I shouted when the ships started gaining speed and his Blackbeard was about to soon outrun us. He looked back.

"What?"

"Tell her I'm sorry! And not angry anymore!"

But he only scoffed in frustration rolling his eyes and turned away wheeling the helm left and so our ways parted sailing away in different directions and soon The Blackbeard disappeared behind the rocks of a big island.

* * *

It happened when I was lying in the hammock in my cabin and trying hard to fall asleep but the more I tried the lighter my eyelids became lifting themselves up and making me observe the pattern of wooden ceiling, flourishes of which intertwined forming intricate circles and then separated again into thin winding lines. I would happily prefer to pass out into dreamless sleep and lie in the hammock till the very noon but I couldn't. Half of bottle I had already finished but it seemed it wasn't going to act as usual and affect me as some sleeping pill.

Every time I closed my eyes trying not to move and the sleep would start taking me I saw strange fuzzy pictures, all too fast for me to catch them but becoming more sorted out as they repeated. It had been lasting for three days already, three nights to be precise and I couldn't get over this as the brighter the pictures became the stronger the scar on my left hand hurt me starting with faint sucking pain and boosting its saturation.

Strange dreams had visited me when I would have finally made it falling asleep two nights in a row before this one. Dusty sandy road and rocks all around and I was riding a horse into the town with strange houses I've never seen before that, scarce trees but those that crossed my way were fancy and still more of plants were shriveled and lacking any growth. It wasn't England, no, nor was it Wales or any place of West Indies I had ever visited. It was strange to see everything as if with my own eyes, too feel myself involved but still I realized this body didn't belong to me and I was only a random visitor in this world.

I saw people I've never met before and talked to them in a low firm voice that never belonged to me. Sometimes I would come into a beautiful place, the big manor inside the city-fortress. Books would fill every shelf of the great hall and I could walk up the stairs to see what was there on the second floor of this magnificent library. I knew there was my study there, where I would make decision and spend nights in sorting different problems of my brotherhood out but it was never the time now. And so I crossed the hall, walked up this stony stairs but didn't walk higher – the grating was lifted up and I proceeded into the beautiful garden with green bushes and trees, fragrant flowers and fountains with fresh cool water. There was strange golden sphere in my hands.

Sometimes I would run through the night with one and only wish – to kill; and sometimes I would spend time with beautiful intelligent woman with whom I felt the rush of this world stepping aside.

These dreams were composed of different torn scratches as if reminiscence of life, but not mine. I kill my mentor, my brothers make me their leader, I marry that beautiful woman.

I can't understand what had happened and why I started having this dreams though that I've never seen them before. I never was an assassin…then why their strange loony features have suddenly passed upon me? I fancy if it was what Mary made that provoked it. Each time I turn the vision and look at the scar on my palm I see it glowing with purple just as that last night on the island when she shared this miracle with me. It is glowing the way if the blood of her was still there inside it though I can find no sensible explanation of how's that possible.

This night the pain is stronger and the darkness of night trees and the cold clear sky above me flashes before my eyes as I feel dizzy and drunk and slowly gaining satisfaction but next moment the illusion fades and I shake my head.

"What have you done to me…" – I whisper blinking my eyes – "what have you done to me Mary...what are you doing lass, what are you doing right now"

It is silly but I have a feeling she would hear me, no matter how long the distance between us. Who the hell knows of what this Sense is capable of if I know I started seeing the life of that Altair in my dreams. If it is able to do this maybe it can go even further? Mary herself once told me the assassins themselves don't know all the secrets their Sense hides.

"If you hear me Mary know that I miss you so much lass" – I breath out – "all those words I told in that letter…I'm ready to take each of them back just for us to have that trust in each other again"

I close my eyes and try to make that illusion return but manage only with feeling of strange arousal slowly gathering in me and the light warm wind stroking my hair.

"I just thought that you put me above your brotherhood…I dreamed of this, but maybe you had your reasons for what you've done, you know I've always been a hot head – first do and only then think…just know I didn't mean anything I've done or said, Israel's right…no matter what you did I shouldn't have acted that way"

The feeling boosts itself so that I can hear a hard breath on my skin and such a tide of anger and confusion gathers in me that I simply jump up on the hammock. The bright pain pangs the scar and suddenly I feel very very bad.

"What the fuck…" – I groan sprinting to the bucket near the wall and throwing the dinner out.

I feel giddy and sick and when I crawl back into the hammock and close my eyes not even trying to return into that illusion again I never stop feeling bad. The scar doesn't hurt so awful any longer but till the end of the night I can't fall asleep tortured with never stopping anxiety that I can find no way to explain to myself. Can't sleep and come up to the table to drink some rum, saunter back and forth, come back to the table and take out some maps and papers to keep myself busy, take the swords and start sharpening them, even take the single book I manage to find in my cabin and try to read it waiting for the eyes to get tired of following the lines and start drooping but it never happens.

The morning comes, wry rays of morning light penetrate through the windows of my cabin and I curtain them up and flop down into the hammock again.

Am I going crazy? I've heard the stories of people who start to feel or see things they can't explain, they start talking to themselves as strange voices echo in their heads. Maybe that's what is happening to me right now? Maybe the Observatory has completely freaked my mind out? This, what I feel – this just can't be real.

My eyes are closed and gradually this strange anxiety withers, as if falling asleep itself and dragging me to follow it.

I'm in Masyaf again. It's late night and I'm running through the darkness, I'm back from the serious mission but the seriousness of it doesn't even compare the seriousness of the reason I'm hastening my horse like crazy to be in time and not miss this the most important event in my life. On my way I met the messenger who was sent to meet me and tell it is coming. I sprint through the gates and further into the fortress, jump off the horse before it has even stopped and run past my brothers to enter the main doors, then right towards our private chambers. The screams I hear on my way confirm I'm heading the right way. There are some people in the corridor, fussing with water buckets, towels and attars, but I ignore them and burst inside the room slamming the door behind me. I make it just in time to see my son born and embrace my beloved wife kissing her wet forehead and lean over our child wrapped in soft white towels meeting the innocent stare of brown eyes, the same as my own.

No gold could have made me this happy as I feel now watching my baby-son slightly grapping my thumb before closing his eyes and falling asleep snuggling to my wife's breast as happy tears are running down her cheeks.

And the dream is over.

I open my eyes sharply and as the events of the dream are still bright in my memory, leaving the side-effect of all the feelings of Altair I was just feeling myself, a sudden thought comes into my head and I understand I need to finish with all these "serious" business I busy myself with just to delay coming back on Inagua. I need to finish this latest stuff with the last templar key, go back and see Mary because what I'm thinking of is far more serious than any treasure I can get.

Have I really spilled the seed outside Mary that night? …Because I simply don't remember doing it.


	5. The Unity

**Hello everybody! **  
**Happy to say the fuss with term paper is almost over! =)  
I was so inspired by this fact and it made writing this chapter an easy and joyful thing, I think that probably this one is my favorite of all; do wish you'll feel the same.  
P.S. The name of the chapter is not connected to ACV anyway, it just suits the content well, you'll see.  
**

* * *

5

The Unity

I'm standing behind the counter of the Inagua's tavern looking at the ship sailing into the haven – past rocks protecting the island from unwanted attention and towards the pier – to drop anchor. To moor. For two months I haven't seen this ship and thought I probably never would. But there she is – the black flag is flapping above the white sails and the bird figure on the bow is as if looking busily – like a landlord observing what changes did the island gained since the last time he's been here.

He came back.

And I am standing behind the counter of the tavern. Yes, I really am, it's not a silly joke I'd make after losing in some stupid bet. But…why?

It is a long story.

* * *

It has all started when I finally found out I wasn't sick with some deadly and contagious disease. In fact I was pregnant. And I still am. I realized it when my month bleeds didn't come again, for the second time already and constant sickness I felt forced me to understand one fact, namely – I couldn't deny my state any longer.

The pain in my arse – my fucking Edward Kenway – made me the most unwanted present I could ever get – he made me a child. Did he do this not knowing about it or did he do this intentionally as one more point of his revenge list – I wouldn't know it and, honestly, it doesn't change anything, the outcome is final and I can't remote the time back.

I did think he had done this not intentionally – we had been so drunk that night, hadn't we? I was more than sure he didn't even know about it, just like I hadn't known it some time before. What was making me so certain? Probably that story of his mother he had once told me and I just couldn't imagine him hating me so much that he had decided I deserved troubles with pregnancy and then one of two options – dying while giving birth or raising the child alone. He couldn't do this intentionally, couldn't he? The children topic is too sore for him.

The knowing was growing in me just like this child in my womb. First it was stabbing me with disturbing guesses but I tried to brush it all away and concentrate on my quartermaster work, which did need my full attention. It doesn't even worth to be whirling about – Jack is the most terrible captain I have ever seen. His leader traits are as much sharp as his abilities to fight and speak straight and, that is - absolutely miserable. Even that he didn't drink as much as before and, that is - before he met Anne – he still could only do as a dealer or, at least, a good accountant (though most of them time this activity became too boring for him and I had to finish everything myself). And that's exactly what captain he was. Enough for me to be forced to take all the duties and perch them upon my strong woman's shoulders. And that is the half a trouble. The other one is that I had to also play up to him, viewing him as the real possessor of power on the ship which, in fact, wasn't true, but the crew needed certainly, it needed confidence in their captain and, thus, we had to be allies.

And…what was I about?

Oh, aye, I remember. The child was growing in my womb, and my reluctance to face this fact couldn't change it, and one day (or night to be precise) I passed the helm to Jack and walked down the stairs to the maindeck, towards the bow, where Anne was lonely lying in the hammock fixed between the bannisters of the deck and the yard of the bowsprit. She was gazing at the stars.

* * *

"Ahoy, Annie, why alone?" – I asked taking another hammock lying on the deckfloor and starting adjusting it the same as hers on the other side if the yard. This habit we had found several weeks ago. Lying in the hammock like this was making my sickness lighter. Anne's too but this I found out only later and at that point of time didn't know.

"Oh, Mary" – she looked at me, smiled her endearing smile, looking so content and happy with everything – "I was just resting, it is so good to lay here – waves right underneath and the sky above. So peaceful"

"Aye"

I finished adjusting and carefully made myself in the hammock. Wondering how to start the topic that I wanted to start. That I simply needed to start and share everything I was so anxious about with someone. This someone could be only Anne.

I breathed out noisily and for some time it was just like this – Anne, I and the silence of the night. But then I started.

"Annie, there's somethin' I need to tell ya"

"What?" – she asked quietly as I wasn't looking at her, only at the stars above our heads. I wasn't trying to continue for a while, just tried to gather my thoughts and feelings all together and that is why she found it appropriate to add – "You know I also wanted to talk to you about one serious thing"

"Oh" – I raised my brows and turned my head to her – "'bout what?"

"No, no, Mary – you go first"

"Annie, don't be silly, we're not kids to play this game. C'mon, tell me"

"Okay" – she sighed but next time her face lightened with a smile – "guess what?"

"What?"

She giggled and then a sudden cheerfulness came upon her and she fully turned to me raised a little bit on her elbows.

"I will give you three tries and you try to guess"

"Oh Annie…" – I sighed brokenly but her cheerfulness seemed to affect me and I took the same position on my hammock as hers and turned to her, we were facing each other and looking like two teenage gossipers but, anyways, there was almost no one on the deck to see it – "all right" – I drawled and giggled – "let's play your game, Irish leprechaun" – I made an expression of deep thinking on my face and Anne's smile became even more wider if it was only possible – "You…nope – Jack made you a proposal?"

"Nay" – she shook her head once – "that was one, you have two more to go"

"Hmph…you've finally decided to break up with this pity lout?" – I made one more attempt but she shook her head again giving me look of reproach.

"Nay again, and you know I hate when you talk about Jack like tis"

"Phah, ya're still blind with this man" – I snorted but her look made me roll my eyes but leave the topic and use my last try – "Oh well" – I sighed – "maybe ya've found yourself a new toy to play with? That lad Logan seems pretty hot, tell me you did Annie, please tell me"

But she shook her head the third time.

"You've lost, how could you?!" – she stretched her hand and slightly pushed my arm with a laugh shared with both of us. Then she dropped her eyes with the same mysterious smile, that became more delicate and when she raised it back on me she said – "I'm pregnant, Mary"

My gaze freezed, looking into nowhere. How? And she? Too?

"You're the first to know" – she continued despite my reaction – "I haven't told Jack yet, a bit nervous about it. Mary?" – she called and it made me leave my shocked state. I blinked frequently and then flopped my back onto the hammock with a terrible sigh – "What's wrong?" – Anne called and the smile in her voice turned into confusion.

"Fancy it is, so fancy"

"What do you mean?"

"That it is fancy"

"Stop talking riddles, I'm serious, you look like I've just feeded you with an ill"

"It's jos'…"

"What?"

"I'm pregnant too, Annie" – I finally said and it seemed like the burden became somewhat lighter though nothing could make it turn into blessing. So far it couldn't. It couldn't that time. I looked in her suddenly widened eyes with a bitter smile – "Isn't this fancy, lass?"

* * *

Fancy it was indeed. And fancier it became when Emily told us both she's pregnant too. It seemed that fateful night on the island, the last of those, left something to everyone who was there. Except Israel maybe and he should consider himself a lucky man.

But maybe I was too categorical reducing all to the same level to which I myself belonged. This child was a burden to me and I cursed Edward every time I felt sickness coming. He was the one to blame and I found bitter comfort in this. But that was I. Anne, on the other hand, seemed to flourish with knowing she's bearing Jack's child making him be puzzled with the reason of her constant bright smiles. She wanted to tell him, she really did, but she was afraid she would make her stay ashore in some house while he would be continuing furrowing the seas of Caribbean leaving her alone, of course with some care implied, but without him. Once she tasted what sailing is all about she fell in love with it and she wanted to stay on the ship as long as her state let her.

Meaning as long as the belly is not seen and this applied to all the three of us.

And Emily blossomed as well. It was making me darker the more brighter they became and I realized I was a bit envious of how easily they treated the situation they suffered. The same is mine but I couldn't feel any happy about it.

Before that I did noted Emily had been spending all the time she could in Vane's company. It meant all the time she and he were ashore and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw how tenderly and fondly he treated her, the way I had never seen him treating anyone else. His eyes would never leave her, with a certain puppy expression I would say. She just needed to beckon him with a sign of her finger and he would be already near her, ready to do whatever she would ask.

To conclude – yes. It was a burden only for me. Sometimes I would be letting the steam off shouting orders to the crew and dissolving in my work. Sometimes I would be just lying in my bed feeling absolutely nothing. Zero of emotions, zero of feelings and zero of wish to live. And sometimes I would be throwing everything in my cabin to hell and into the walls in the tide of unbearable anger towards Edward and every time after that I would feel so bad – writhing over the bucket, feeling ready to drop and lying back on my bed – as if his child blamed me for my anger and made me stop it. And I would be lying on the bed, cuddling into the blanket and crying my wretched bitter tears out.

Until one day I thought of one solution that I was so surprised it hadn't come into my head long ago. The solution was so easy. And I wished it was still not too late to carry it out.

* * *

We made a pause in our pirate raids of hunting for Spanish rich vessels (we didn't dare to attack the British ones but even so the Royal Navy started a chase to catch us), switched our black flag for the trade British and came into the port of Kingston with a fake waybill, but a good bribe tied the tongue of a port's officer and we drew no attention.

Jack stayed to sell the stolen goods using this fake waybill that one of our lads, who used to work with loads before joining pirates, made us, and I headed to the local brothel to visit my good old friend Corrine. I didn't want anyone to go with me, I was fully intentioned to do what I planned to, but Anne and Emily tagged after me anyways. It's not that I didn't care for their concern for my life, but I just really wanted to end this everything up finally, and their constant lines that child is a blessing weren't helping me feel less nervous or frustrated.

The brothel "Royal Pleasures" stayed the same as I remembered it the last time I had been there with Edward and Ade when we tried to grasp information about Satine's location. The owner of the brothel "Royal Pleasures" stayed the same as well – she was cackling around me like some crazy hen. It touched me – this woman does care for me – but at the same time her bright smiles were making me feel guilty. Guilty before her for what I was going to ask her for, guilty before Anne and Emily for what I was so intended to put through, guilty before Edward too, and most of all guilty before that small clot of flesh inside me who deserved a better mother but got me instead.

* * *

"Mary, are you sure? It's a serious step, think it through" – Corrine had a serious face herself, looking into my eyes insistently leaning closer to me over the table as we were sitting in that very living room in the private part of the brothel into which she had taken us that last time I was here.

We had already told her everything and I explained her the reason of my visit and now her look and the hard looks of Anne and Emily trailed my every gesture and every change in my face.

"I wouldn't come if I wasn't sure" – I cut calmly but firmly and they stayed looking for my following words. I took a sip of tea and concentrated my eyes on the pattern of the walls. I was hesitating even though I acted like I wasn't. At last I continued – "Where I've grown up…let me say there were lots of whores in that surroundin'. And not only" – I hastened to add not to insult Corrine but it seemed nothing I could say would make her offended at that very moment – "there were just simple women too, who had children they never wanted to have" – I haltered, caught looks of Anne and Emily and that made me focus on Corrine. The expression on their faces was too close to change my mind. Corrine nodded she's listening attentively and I made an effort to say the hardest of things – "And those women used to come to mah mum. I don't know what she was doin' to them but as a result they were no longer pregnant an' they stayed healthy as if nothin' happened. My mum…I guess she was good at this women-problem-thin'. An' I wonder if you're good at this too" – I finished, but not as a question. As a statement.

Anne and Emily exchanged dark looks, but Corrine stayed looking at me, with the same insistent fire in her green eyes. I recalled my mother had the same when she was looking at those women who came for her help into out small shack. And that was the only thing of that secret affairs I was allowed to see as the next moment mum would send me outside. "To play with other kids" – she used to say even when I turned my twelve and it meant "go find some work and earn money". And if it was night she sent me into the second room of our two-roomed shack in which I had to stay, listening to women groaning and screaming with pain, until this _something_ was over.

And Corrine had precisely the same look - that is true. Anne tried to say something but Corrine hushed at her and she stopped. She was no more looking like a cackling whimsical hen and her eyes were steel-firm. There was no question of not obeying her and my two friends understood this. That was real Corrine sitting in front of us right now – Corrine intelligent and Corrine imperious. And it was clear how this constantly smiling and giggling French woman could be an assassin long time ago, before she settled down here. Like a real French woman she realized - living a woman in the world where men rule it is better to hide your brain behind charming behavior.

Corrine raised herself sharply and I could only guess what she was going to do. With confident and determined steps she came up to an impressively looking big cabinet of dark wood. It had only two shutters and they were closed – joined with a heavy lock.

"May I enquire about the father?" – she asked pulling the small key out of the tiny pocket on her dress. I exchanged looks with perplexed Anne and Emily, but before I had a time to answer she added – "That man, Edward Kenway if I remember right, he's the father?" – she opened the cabinet and sent me a look.

"Aye, but how could you…"

"Mary" – she shook her head in a tired air – "I'm old enough to see when two people fancy each other. And he was more than fancy" – she added with meaning and then added again – "And so were you"

I couldn't find anything to say on this, confused with this sudden change in Corrine and she turned away from me focusing on the entrails of the cabinet and searching for something inside. The three of us stayed silent looking at one another from time to time. Corrine took everything she needed out and clutching it close to her chest closed the cabinet and hid the key back into her tiny pocket. Then she returned to us, took her sit in front of me again and demonstrated us her findings. A small bottle with some liquid inside, she placed on the coffee table and a cold steel flashed in her hands.

"This" – she shook a long metal stick with a tiny spatula on its end, never stopping looking at me, eyes into eyes, with this firm piercing stare – "I inject this into you and scrape there until there is nothing of your child left inside" – she said strictly, and it felt as if the heart sank inside my chest. She gestured at the vial on the table – "This. You take the liquid in and in twelve hours the dead child goes out itself" – she said, took the vial in her other hand holding the threatening-looking stick in the other and finished cruelly – "Choose".

Looking at her, and at these horrible objects in her hands, I never noticed how my hands clasped to my belly. I didn't want to do this. It was uncontrollable – a sudden wish to protect that small clot of flesh inside me. And it surprised me. Maybe that was the reason that changed my mind. I always used to think I wasn't made to be a mother, but this small gesture as if proved the opposite. It proved that I had this maternal instinct and it proved this small clot of flesh, the part of me and the part of Edward, meant something important to me.

Looking at my inconstancy, which must have been reflected on my face, Corrine suddenly put these torture instruments onto the table. She rashly came to me, kneeled on the carpet, took my hands in hers and softly squeezed them looking at me entreatingly.

"Mary, I know what you feel" – she said much softer – "Once I was in the middle of the same. I was young and ambitious, just like you. Was happy to live for the creed, to clear the world from the Templars and was content with my life" – she haltered – "but then I moved from France to West Indies and met a man. And he changed everything, petit. I fell for him so deeply, he was so unlike the others, so…for'midable" – she gulped down and then continued – "I don't remember when did it happen but one way or another I was with his child. And you know what I did then?" – I shook my head and she told me – "I was so stupide, just like you. I thought there were too many distractions for us to have a family and I got rid of that child" – she made a pause, threw a glance away, at the wallpapers and I bet there were tears glittering in her eyes but when she looked at me again there was no trail of them left – "And then it became clear we had to be together – that man and I. We lived together on Tulum, had our own house there, shared our bed. I realized how stupide I was - got rid of that first baby - when we started trying to make a child and we couldn't. However then we made it, I was pregnant again and this child was desired and we were so happy" – she sighed – "but my stupidity cost me a lot, the boy was weak, had poor health and when he turned ten he died because of some minor disease which was easily overcome by all the other children on the island. We lost him, I couldn't stay there any longer and moved to Kingston where I opened this brothel"

Corrine finished, loosened grip of my hands and stood up. She sauntered to the window and stopped there stating through the glass with dimmed gaze.

"You may not realize it now, Mary" – she said but not looking at me – "but you won't be wishing to be a warrior forever. One day you will understand you want to have a normal life, that you want to be a mother and that you want to have a beloved man"

"Who was that man, Corrine?" – I asked already knowing the answer.

For a moment she made no move. Then she turned her head to me but even that her stare spoke of grief and regret, she answered firmly.

"Ah Tabai" – her lips formed a bitter smile – "Don't repeat my mistakes, Mary"

* * *

And I didn't. With the help of Corrine's story and that sudden maternal instinct I accidently found in me, I discovered one thing that I never thought I would. I felt the unity with the child inside me. He had been a burden, but suddenly I stopped thinking this way. More and more often I recalled in memory my own mother – how I blamed her for her neglectful attitude towards her own daughter, how I still can't forgive her for it. And what I wanted to do to my own child…isn't it thousand times worse than what she did to me?

Every time I remembered back that long metal stick I felt my heart squeezing and a shudder broke through me.

After we left Corrine I wanted to visit that beach that belonged to Edward and me, but I understood it would be too risky in my recent state. I couldn't be thinking only of myself, I had to put my child above my own wishes and interests. And so Anne, Emily and I returned to the _William _where we were met by jolly Jack – his little fraud with stolen goods worked out and we had a good profit without being have to pay for the mediation.

We returned back on Inagua where I hoped I wouldn't meet Edward. It was too early and I had a plan to operate. To operate this plan I needed Edward away from Inagua and when we finally came into the haven of his island I breathed out with relief not seeing the Jackdaw docked on the pier.

A harbor master, Mr. Drake, told me the Jackdaw left the port just yesterday evening - after spending the whole week here. He said Captain Kenway asked questions of the _William – _when had he last moored here, how much times come into the port and how long the crew spent on the island.

He was waiting for me. I knew it. And I was happy we reached the island precisely on that day and not on the day before. I thanked Mr. Drake, gave him some coin for the information and added some more for him to keep mum I enquired about the _Jackdaw_ when Captain Kenway would ask him. Though I knew Edward would easily overpay my money and Mr. Drake would tell him everything anyway. Hell with it. At least I formed friendly relationships with this man and I knew this would be handy very soon.

* * *

Sneaking into the vault under Edward's mansion I felt double feelings. I knew I acted disgraceful, but, on the other hand, this must have been done.

For our child.

I wasn't going to tell Edward he will become a father soon. After that incident on the island, after he found out I had been updating assassins about his location and intentions he must have decided to end our relationships forever. He must have kept to this idea for some time. Until the anger for me is cooled down in him. I knew him well enough to say he would be feeling guilty after that. I knew he would be trying to fix everything. I knew it.

But I didn't want him to feel obliged to stay with me - maybe he has already decided to return back to England. But this plan of the very many of mine had a serious snag – I couldn't kept him in blissful ignorance forever. Our child kept growing. I already noticed my belly forming a small bump – still unnoticeable under my clothes, but this would change very soon. And from that point on I wouldn't make it to sail anymore – Jack, with great reluctance though, but he _will _send me ashore. Even with my prominent reputation in these seas I doubt I would find another captain who, deciding between male and the female quartermaster – would choose me. Especially big in the belly.

Phah, this is even funny to think of. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

I entered the vault through the tunnel at night. I lit the torches on the walls - it was the same as I remembered it. I approached the chest in which Edward kept the most important documents and opened it with the key I still had, though I guess I should have left it in the mansion that very day when I hired Edward a clerk to keep his business books in order. But I saved it. And not in vain.

I took the torch from the wall and put it into a vase standing nearby so now I had a good lamp to lit the papers. There were loan agreements there, estate documents, working contracts. I found the warranty deed on tavern and brothel possession. Formally these two buildings belonged to Edward, as much as the general store and the port. I looked through the papers suppressing a yawn. Lately I noticed I want to sleep all the time no matter how good I sleep at night. Eat, sleep and vomit – three motto words of pregnancy.

I tried to focus and return to the latest thread of thinking – formally both brothel and tavern belonged to Edward, but only formally. I remembered Edward telling me he had let Mr. Young to run the tavern and Mr. Evans to run the brothel on terms of them paying the costs of these buildings out in the course of several years under the ten-percent interest rate. The papers confirming it…they must have been there. And I found them – the loans. And the deeds of property disposal prepared for the time when the loans are paid out. And the notes of every-month payments.

"There you are" - I smiled with triumph.

I left all these papers on the stony floor and picked up the torch, walked through the corridor with wine stands on both sides and up the stairs to the secret entrance into Edward's study. I was wondering why the baby kept calm this night, not making me feeling this boring sickness, and concluded that maybe he is interested in this little mischief he and I ventured against his father. Only he and I and a little mischief. I started to like this unity.

With this pleasant thought I left the torch fixed on the wall near the entrance - I didn't want anyone to see the light in the house whose owner was away. I slinked over to Edward's desk - happily the moon was giving me some light - and found there a pen and an inkpot.

I clutched my findings in one hand, leaving the other free for the torch but suddenly out of the corner of my eyes I saw something and stopped. I turned left and this something that had drawn my attention appeared to be the cell with the skeleton locked inside. Once locked inside. Because that moment it was open.

I came over to the cell; every Templar's key was in its hole. The odd thing was that this fine templar's clothes once locked inside was _still_ there. But not on the skeleton – it was lying in a messy heap on the cell floor, as if someone tried it on but didn't like the way it fitted him and thus left it here, no longer needed.

And I left it there. With mixed feelings and thoughts I closed the secret door, took the torch and walked down the stairs to the place where I had left the papers. The torch took the same position in the vase and I leaned over the documents, dipped the pen into the ink and neatly inscribed "Mary Read" on the property disposal papers of both brothel and tavern. To leave my sign was easy, but to fake Edward's hand was more complicated. His writing is more of scrabbling, but not his signature – he signs documents with bold elegance – and observing the sample on one of the papers I was wondering if these fake signatures I had just made were enough fancy and enough believable. Eventually I considered they were – left Edward's copies in the chest, closed it, took the bag with gold out of my pocket and threw it into the big chest with Edward's savings (from which I also had the key). I groped for the loose block in the wall and finally found it – put the two keys to all the others inside and inserted the block back. No more I needed them. For some time I fished about the wine stands but soon I chose two bottles (not for myself of course - I'm pregnant!), blew out the torches and with only one left in hand turned to the exit tunnel.

"Your father has just financed our future, baby" – I said running my hand over the belly and yawned – "okay, okay, we're goin' to bed right now, jos' let me reach mah cabin" – I smiled and with a feeling of a cat savoring the mouse I left the vault.

* * *

The next day I paid visits to Mr. Young at the tavern and to Mr. Evans at the brothel. Both were presented with the finest wine and (to their _disappointment _to put it mildly) with the notes of their payments and two bags with these payments not only returned back but doubled in twenty-five percent (which was the act of my kindness). In feedback I asked them both to vacate their businesses and pass their counting books to me as soon as possible. They were indignant they were. Were sputtering, foaming in the mouth - How could Captain Edward Kenway spit upon their bargain and suddenly sell their lifeworks to _me_? Mr. Young (that mean bartender, finally he got my revenge) even found no need to conceal his attitude towards me and openly called me "Edward Kenway's bedding" on which I answered with a smile and assumed that this bottle of finest wine was just in time presented and wished him to have a mild hangover next morning.

And thus I had two large businesses of the island in my hands.

We had – my son and I.

I hoped it would be a son because no girl I wish to be born into this cruel world where safety have only those women who were lucky enough to born in rich and aristocratic families. We were no aristocratic but with such business we promised to become rich. At least we will always have good food to eat and a sturdy roof to cover our heads. My child would never suffer from hunger or cold – _never_. I would kill, I would steal but my child will be warmed and safe.

And so I moved onto the second floor of the tavern and took the handling of the tavern itself and of the brothel into my hands. The tavern was easy for me to operate, I had experience and Anne helped me with those things I had forgotten, but the brothel was the pain in my arse. Whores are fancy people – they steal from you when you turn away just for a second and the next moment beam innocent smiles into your face. At last, I dropped the matter and simply made a good offer to Satine - who had the qualification in such things – I offered her consortium: she becomes my partner in operating the brothel and gets half of profits.

She liked this offer.

And something told me with such a partner of mine the whores would stop stealing very soon.

* * *

Living on the second floor of the tavern I got it in time that I had to find a different home – the noise from downstairs didn't stop from the very morning, it woke me up, it pissed me off. If it woke _me_ up what would it be when the small baby is here?

And so I bought the small house at the end of the row of houses accompanying the path up the hill in the minor's direction. When the repairs were done I moved in there and left the second floor of the tavern for lodgers. The house was just what I needed – it was far enough from the tavern and the brothel to minimize the noise almost to nothing.

One can ask why I fussed around it so much when I could just settle down in Tulum? The question is fair. And the answer is dual. I was telling myself I didn't want to put my child in danger – the raids on Tulum were an often thing and he could get hurt. Another reason was that I wanted to raise my child in society – even in the small one limited with this island but still the society. I didn't want to fence him off the whole world under the cares of assassins – he should see different people, different believes and different points of view. He should be as free as an eagle. Now that I had a constant inflow of money it was possible.

But this is only half a true.

To be honest, the other half is a justification of the truth unsightly for me – I wanted Edward to see the blue-eyed blond boy, the bright image of him, to see me taking care of his child, to understand everything and…to stay with us.

* * *

And now I'm standing behind the counter of my tavern looking at fucking Edward Kenway jumping off his _Jackdaw; _the counting books I was busy with are lying on the table completely forgotten. He looks the same beautiful and the same cocky and his blond hair are scattered in the wind. Edward starts walking towards the harbor master's booth but someone calls him – it is Ade, he screams something to him and Edward answers with a wide boyish grin. I realize I'm just standing still and staring at him but I can do nothing about it.

Do I love him?

Yes, I love this man. And I love him since the first time I met his pity arse. I wish the child inside would stir or do something to help me pull myself together but I guess it is too early for him and I can count only on myself so far.

He reaches the harbor master – his most trustful agent – shakes hands with him and asks something. Mr. Drake's speech is long and I begin to bite my lips in nervousness. One beardy man comes over to the counter and orders beer. Martha, one of the three wenches stretches her hand to pour the order from the barrel behind me and I have to step aside. The mop of jolly lads from the _Jackdaw_ obstructs the view now and I crane my neck to see at least something. Emily, who's been sitting by the counter in front of me on Vane's lap, frowns at my actions but following my look she gets everything and frees herself from Charles, who doesn't really seem to be content with it. Can't say I was ever more grateful to Emily as the next moment she comes over to those lads and smiling her brightest smile asks them not to be a distraction between her and her observation of the magnificent ship that has just moored. They burst into apologizes, mixed with compliments, but when Vane's tall figure grows behind her shoulders they quickly retreat to the nearest table.

And I get my view.

Mr. Drake seems to be finishing his report, he's smiling somewhat sheepishly and casts a brief look at the tavern. That's when I understand it's the time for me to vanish, because if I thought I'm ready to see Edward - _now, _with a sudden tide of panic, I understand I am not. But it is too late. Edward turns his head and his eyes fall right on the tavern, right on the counter, and right on me. The smile, he's been beaming, gradually dies and I feel my heart sinking. Our eyes couple tight: he seems…stunned? Confused? Perplexed? His face speaks of nothing and I bet mine is the same. I don't know what to do…and what to say if he comes over. _When _he comes over. But for now he is just standing still, though I know soon it will change.

But, just as I was asking him, the child suddenly makes his turn. I feel boring sickness coming back and this distracts me. But as soon as I drop my eyes Edward makes a spurt towards the tavern. I can't lose any time now. I run out of the counter, clasp Anne by the elbow and drag her, jibbing, towards my house.

"Mary, what's wrong?!" – she exclaims.

"Edward; right there" – I hiss and after a quick look back she hastens our speed.

I'm not ready to meet him face to face. I'm just not ready.

With a speed of two panthers we pass the brothel, turn left and run into the last house on the right. I lock the door and lean it with my back to catch my breath.

"Mary, why do you need me here?" – Anne asks breathing brokenly.

And truly – why?

"I can't stay with him tête-a-tête, Annie…I jos' can't"

"Silly…just silly…Will you tell him about the baby?"

"I don't know"

"You should tell, Mary" – she pierces me with reproach.

"A-ha and you should tell Jack then" – I snap back at her – "Are you ready for it?"

Anne looks defeated.

"Your truth"

For some time we are left in peace. Through the window I see Edward passing my house but not stopping. First I think he maybe doesn't even know which house is mine but the illusion fades when he sends a penetrating look at the window and I close the curtains shut at once. Anne is laughing but it is not a laughing matter for me.

"Stop whinnyin' for God's sake!" – I protest, pushing her shoulder slightly while passing to brew some tea. Anne falls into the sofa, sighs in despair grasping the air with choking gulps and never stopping laughing.

"I can't" – she rolls and her cheeks are of the same color as her hair – "we're with babies, _but! _Just think of it! - We are, _ourselves_, act as children!"

"Nothin' childish" – I drop and hurry up to lift the hatch cover and take the jerked meat out of the small cellar.

Anne stops rolling with laughter through some time. She comes over to my bed to make it, as when I woke up this morning I haven't even found the time to do it. I, myself, understand how silly I am and that Anne is right but the upcoming meeting with Edward frightens me no worse than that long metal stick Corrine once showed me.

Has he forgiven me? How is it better to act – as if I'm still sulking for that letter and everything he did back on that island? Or as if I've rubbed it all out of my memory already? Should I be firm or, on the contrary, to show him I still care?

I'm stirring the stew on the stove, waiting for it to get enough warm and shoot nervous glances at the door every now and then as if I'm able to look through it and see if he's coming. Anne has been walking about the room of the house but eventually found her place on the chair by the table and started a blank conversation. I feel grateful for her and adjust to the conversation with affected enthusiasm, just to loosen my nervousness a bit.

Why am I so nervous? No man has ever made me so nervous; I repeat – never. I'm tough Mary Read for fuck's sake. And Edward has never made me this nervous…probably one time – when I revealed my true identity to him. That night I was awfully nervous as well. But now…when we got through so much – just Edward and I… Is it because his child is growing in me? Is it the reason?

The knock at the door runs through the night – confident and loud – and we startle. Anne and I look at one another, then at the door; I gulp down, straighten my shoulders and lift my chin up. The walk to the door appears to short, in a feverish gesture I tuck the hair behind my ear, close my eyes and ask God for strength he's been so generous to provide me in excessive amounts all the time before, but now, suddenly, taking all the stock of it back. I open my eyes and open the door.

Edward seemed to be picking off the paint on the wall of my house all the time I was coming over to the door, but now with a spurt he stops this activity and his arm falls to his side. He straightens himself somewhat oddly as if ready to raise his hand to salute me in a military manner. In one hand he has a bottle of wine and the other is as if stuck to his side. For a moment we keep staring at each other, just like on the pier and neither of us finds the strength to break this hypnotizing silence.

Finally Edward gives an embarrassed cough, looks away for a moment and when turns back to me he reveals rather stiff but at any rate warm smile.

"Well hi, Mary" – he says and my self-control returns along with this nice welsh-accented voice.

"Well hi, Kenway" – I say quietly and let him in.

* * *

**Have a nice weak! And thanks everyone who reads, reviews and sticks to this story, I think I will never get tired thanking you, you're such amazing people, each of you :3**


	6. The Catastrophe

**Phew, here I am, had an inflow of ideas and so started writing without delaying before I lost the inspiration. So, yeah - I'm happy to present you another chapter of this week. It's tough, veeeeery tough, and I think two next ones will be tough too because...you'll see. **

* * *

6

The Catastrophe

My mum used to say I could charm the birds off the trees.

And that's exactly what I am counting on standing in front of the newly renovated shack piercing the newly painted red door with impatient look and waiting for its newly build-up handle to be pulled from inside.

But it is plain to witness that this particularly bird has a huge distinction from all the others of her kind. To be precise she has always been out of the typical kind. And in that world where all the lasses belonged to the group whether of doves, whether of swans, whether of martins (and the most desperate to the type of vultures), this particularly one would be a genuine eagle. Or a hawk. Or a kite. To put it short, she belongs to the kind of birds that never find their place sitting on a tree and waiting for the most handsome man in the world to charm them off.

Aye – to _this_ kind of birds Mary Read belonged.

It feels like I've knocked on the door the ages ago and there is still no answer, so not knowing how to busy myself with I start picking the white paint off the wall with my forefinger. This activity takes me completely, somewhat it helps me to take it easier. Because I _don't _feel like taking it easier. In fact, I feel like the first time with woman and it is odd because through all my twenty-six year life I had a _lot _of women, and if talking about Mary – well, I was _with _her too. And not once.

I came here with a genuine intention to make up with her, but not without a catch. There is a bottle of wine clasped in my left hand which has a dual cause of being here. It would seem I brought it as a sign of peace, but the real story is that I brought it to check Mary. And I like to pride myself on being smart enough to think up such a sly and, at the same time, simple way to check if she is really pregnant as I think she is.

As I _know_ she is, to be precise, for I certainly know the truth – Emily has told me it when passing the tavern, which Mary and Anne so rashly escaped, I met those two – Emily and Vane.

* * *

The bear-like hugs Charles and I shared and I excused if I can steal Emily for a moment; perplexed but he agreed and I took her - perplexed as she was as well – to the solitary table where no one could overhear us. Charles stayed there, looking at us with wonder what mutual business could we have. Just as Emily took her seat I asked straight away "Emily, is Mary pregnant?". And there could be no mistake as taken by surprise she couldn't hide the honest answer her wide eyes gave and she understood this. "She is, Edward" – she said and laid all the truth out before me.

She told how Mary visited Corrine, she told the truth about all the three of them and pleaded not to tell Jack and Charles till they are ready to tell it themselves, but I didn't care for it. I cared only for Mary and I had to see her.

What Mr. Drake told me somewhat cooled down my happiness and anticipation of meeting her. To be honest, it perplexed me first – the fact that "Miss Read has bought the tavern and the brothel and the house at the end of the Pearl-Street" (and also the fact that my island has "the street" at all). It made me delay knocking on this red door for half an hour, which was enough for me to check documents in the vault of my house and find the property disposal papers on the two buildings filled in – with "Mary Read" as the new owner and my sign proudly showing at the bottom of the document. The fact that I don't remember signing such document made me, to put it mildly, frustrated, but the fact that Mary must have faked it, intentionally making a fool out of me, made my blood boil.

* * *

I'm standing in front of this red door; with a rabid mix of feelings in which fury is prevailed by anxiety and nervousness. The small patch of paint is stuck under my nail, but as I'm ready to try and pick it out, the door suddenly opens and - like a child guilty in damaging someone's property – I freeze with my arms stick to the sides.

She is here, right in front of me - my sharp-tongued, grumpy Mary and a sudden tide of tenderness makes me stare at her no matter how weird it must be looking from the side. She is staring at me too – with no expression on her face and only her wide eyes tell she's hypnotized just as I am. I note how pretty she looks, I reckon I've never seen her looking prettier. Her cheeks are rosy and face is fresh and as if glowing from inside, her hair is a bit longer than she usually wears and it shines a healthy energy, but I see how life was no less exacting to her than always, according to the tired rings under her eyes. Her pregnancy does her good, but I see it doesn't mean she stopped working as hard as she always does.

Suddenly my memory reminds me that actually I'm pissed off and indignant with her and that I shouldn't forget it and I tear my eyes away with a short cough. I must stay cool and keep my passions inside, I should stop behaving like awkward teenager – I'm a grown-up fearful man for fuck sake. I look down at Mary, she looks up at me. I give a smile hoping it doesn't look stiff.

"Well hi, Mary" – I finally say, proud my voice sounds at ease.

"Well hi, Kenway" – she smiles in respond and her voice is quite, almost intimate as she steps back and lets me in.

I step into the house and just as I do first drops of rain land on the porch. Mary's house, as I observe it from the inside, consists only of one big room and the stairs with a hint the second floor is going to be built soon. The furniture is not of the best quality, but everything looks neat and clean. There's a bedroom area on the left side with a big bed covered with several layers of blankets, a bedside table, bureau, two chairs and a threadbare round carpet on the floor; the right side of the room is where I see Anne sitting by the small square table and drinking tea - it is lit with candles and the fire from the stove and the smell that fills the room reaches my nose and I feel my mouth watered for I haven't eaten anything since morning.

"Come in" – Mary welcomes me still looking rather embarrassed as if we're the pair of strangers - as if not we were telling each other the most private parts of our past knowing the trust between us is outright; as if not we were making love under the sun and moon light (whatever?!) so fierce and so gentle at the same time.

I follow her invitation and take a seat by the table on Anne's right.

"Hey, Edward" – she smiles looking the same beautiful.

"Hi, Anne, how are you?" – I put the bottle on the table and she drops unfavorable eye on it, then on me.

"Like always – kicking arses of Spaniards and you?"

"On the threshold of finding the greatest of riches" – I show off, but Anne's smile becomes lenient.

"Gold is not the greatest of riches, Edward" – she says softly and looks at Mary.

Or precisely at Mary's back as she is busy with pouring something into three bowls and at the look of it my stomach echoes with approval.

"Well" – I say – "at least this gold would come in handy for me and these genuine greatest of riches"

Mary freezes for a moment, just as I've expected. Then she sharply turns round and, as if angry (which I haven't expected), puts the bowls on the table and heavily takes her seat in front of me.

This "something" appears to be a stew. And a well-cooked one as far as I can see. Or smell. Or maybe because I'm so hungry that I'll find delicious absolutely anything. Though no – my experience tells me Mary's cooking has always been rather good. Maybe not as good as Caroline's but enough good to keep my tastes content.

Mary takes the spoon and starts eating, looking straight into her bowl, not raising her head even for a second. Anne follows her example and I follow Anne's. The stew is warm and tasty but rather salty, though Anne doesn't seem to notice it, but I do.

We're eating in silence disturbed only with the clatter of spoons and wind howling outside. Anne and I exchange glances from time to time. I look at Mary but she doesn't look at me. I look at Anne and she makes me a jerked gesture of her head which I interpret like "tell her something". I remember I should be feeling indignant and waiting for explanations and apologies from Mary, but I feel that I can't while she's so out-of-contact. I give a cough.

"Well it's eeehm…very tasty"

"Aha" – Mary answers to her bowl.

One more jerked gesture of Anne as if her neck endures some convulsions and I try again.

"You look very good"

She says nothing, but for a tiny moment her spoon stops half a way before her mouth… to then continue cluttering at the normal level.

"Nice house"

Silence in respond.

"Any news? Maybe something interesting happened while you to were pirating? Maybe there's something you want to tell me?" – I challenge her. Anne makes terrified eyes.

Mary lifts her face sharply and looks straight at me. Then at Anne, but eventually at me again. I know she knows what I'm hinting at and I know she's shocked I might be in the know of this fact she's hiding from me, but I got tired by her behavior as if I should be kneeling before her and pleading for forgiveness when she herself has far more things in stock to be pleading for _my_ forgiveness.

To be honest we are both good – the pot and the kettle, if you come to that.

"I've bought the tavern you know" – Mary starts throwing an anxious glance at Anne and I also notice I'm getting tired of their glance exchanging. I'd prefer we sorted everything out alone – just Mary and I – but realize that Anne is maybe the only reason we are still not throwing tableware into each other.

"And the brothel, I know" – I say without expression but for a second lingering my look on Mary's bosom, which, I must say, looks more appetizing than the last time I saw her.

"You're pig, Kenway" – she reacts just as I thought she would. It's good. I need to make her leave this restrained posture as if I'm the member of the Parliament sitting by her table and eating her stew.

"Reminded me the last time I saw you"

And the barrel explodes.

Mary's eyes sparkle with bad fire and with a loud tap she puts the spoon on the table.

"Oh no…" – Anne quietly breathes out looking into her bowl.

I keep looking at Mary with challenge and she's glaring at me in respond. And _that's_ when I must start enquiring for explanations.

"I'm waiting for your apologies by the way"

"What?" – she utters looking like a panther before the attack.

"Aye, apologies" – I repeat – "for informing the assassins, for betraying me, for sneaking into my house and stealing my documents. Faking them at first place, of course. And then stealing. I need apologies to forgive you"

"To forgive…_me_? Have I heard you right, Kenway? To forgive me?!"

"Aye, you've heard it right. I'm waiting" - I say and add with a smile – "No need to kneel before me, simple "sorry" is enough"

Mary's cheeks become hollow as her lips purse into a thin line and lose color. She's slowly breathing in and out and her eyes are screwed on the bottle with wine standing in the middle of the table, screwed in a away as if she wants to pick it up and crush against my head.

"To say sorry, huh?" – she utters

"That's the only thing I need"

Sharply she stands and I frown as she approaches the stove.

"Hey, such a nice evening, huh!" – Anne tweets and the bolt of lightning tears the sky outside the window – "Oh gosh" – she throws me a panic look, just as Mary lifts the pot with the ends of the stew up, makes several steps back to the table and pours everything out on me before I'm even able to dodge.

"I'm really sorry, Edward, for _this_"

The hot stew is running down my face sneaking underneath the robe and I jump up throwing the chair aside and it smashes against the wall. I wipe my hand across my eyes, across my mouth and across my whole face and the bits of carrot, potatoes, onion and meat fly in every direction.

"What the fuck you afford yourself?!" – I bark and when I finally make it to see behind the stew I see Mary smiling the most shittiest of her smirks.

"My humblest apologies" – she responds and takes the dish with the slice of meat on it and starts slowly sauntering to me – "for informin' assassins for the sake of your pity arse" – she throws a slice of meat into me but make no move to dodge feeling ready to explode myself – "for "_betrayin'"_ you" – she spits the word and throws another slice – "for sneakin' into your house and fakin' the documents leavin' you the sum of money far more higher than these buildings originally cost" – one more slice – "please, Edward, can you fuckin' forgive me" – she ends with stroking voice and pours all the slices left onto my head. I swear if she wasn't pregnant I would throw something heavy into her, but for now I can only manage with words and with cold fury I say:

"And your stew is oversalted"

"Fuck with the stew"

"Aye, fuck with everything if it is all already on Edward"

"Aye" – Mary starts softly – "Now I'm waitin' for _your_ apologies for leavin' me on that beach naked, for using me that night though I thought it was somethin' real, for humiliating me in that letter and for fucking showing my dirty underwear to everybody who was interested to see!" – she ends roaring.

"But you deserved it, Mary!" – I protest roaring as much as she – "You deserved it after what you've done!"

"Fuuuuuuck" – she drawls shaking her head – "Do you even know what man this Sage is, Kenway?! What I've done was for you! I didn't want you to be with that man alone coz I knew he'd lead you into you premature grave! I just wanted Stefano to be there to help you, that's all I wanted!"

"Aye! I forgot I'm a brainless pup who cannot handle his whole life himself, thanks for reminding me, mum, thank you!"

"You're stupid, still stupid even after all the brainwash I've done to you in hope you'll see what is right and what is wrong! You could have been with the assassins for years by then, working with them, studying under Ah Tabai's guidance and developing yourself! But instead you've chosen to stay ignorant in your endless stubbornness! I loved you, I believed in you, I was trying to help, but everything you do is out of spite and you can't even do a thing in spite of the ones who care for you!"

"I'm nobody's man, but myself's"

"I hope this thought warms you up at night" – Mary steps aside and walks to the cooking table near the stove where she stops with her back on me. Saying this phrase I meant assassins but with late comprehension I realize she took it on her account. Anne is still sitting on her place drinking tea with such a face as if she's ready to cry. She throws me a killing glance and looks at Mary, but I'm not finished yet.

"This papers" – I pull the property disposal papers out of my pocket and throw them on the table – "I'm no fool, there's no seal on them, so they are invalid and your holding these businesses is illegal"

"Then leave the seal on them" – I get the calm answer of her back – "And we'll part like two ships in the sea and never talk to each other again"

"Why do you need these businesses at all? Why do you need this house?"

She stays silent, pressing the cooking table with her hands and leaning over it like trying to gain some strength. The sound of thunder shakes the world but the house is sturdy and keeps the storm away from us.

"I think we should all calm down and drink some more tea" – Anne stands and walks over to pour tea into the cups but nor I nor Mary seem to care. I'm looking at her, waiting for these important words I want to hear. If she tells me she's pregnant right now I know we'll make it up, I know we'll manage to forget everything in which we both have fucked up. But she keeps silent.

"Mary?"

No answer.

"Mary?" – I try more insistently.

"You know nothing, Kenway" – I finally hear her voice – quiet and husky.

"Then tell me and I'll know"

But she says nothing and I decide it is time for me to say it myself.

"I know you're pregnant, Mary, Emily has told me everything" – I say on the brake of voice – "I know you're with my child, why are you trying to hide it from me when I would know it anyway?"

Anne drops the cup and its broken fragments are added to the mess of stew on the floor. It is a shudder of Mary's body I see or am I just making it up? She slowly turns to meet my eyes and firmly utters.

"I am _not_ pregnant"

"Or really?" – I smile mockingly. How can she still keep denying this?! I come over to the cupboard and take out the glass. Then go back to the table and conk the bottle with wine open and pour the red liquid into the glass to then approach Mary and offer it to her – "if you're not pregnant, lass, then drink it up for me, please"

I know Mary is stubborn and that she's highly furious at the moment, but I also know she's not an idiot to hurt her child. Our child. I will still have to get used to it, but through three weeks of living with this idea I almost has. And I even started to like the idea as my mind regarded me with visions of our boy or a girl and our happy life altogether.

Mary slowly shifts her look from me to the glass and back. She looks like a barrel ready to explode and I raise my brows waiting for her actions. With screwed eyes she takes the glass and drinks it empty, then looks at me with angry challenge.

"Content?" – she puts the finished glass on the table so that its stem brakes. I raise the bottle.

"I know one glass of wine is of a benefit for everything from the little to the old and the pregnant included. Now please drink some more for me too feel content enough"

She looks at the bottle and I see it's the finish for her patience and her excuses.

"I don't have to be proving you anything" – she glares.

"Then I know you're pregnant"

"I'm not"

"Then drink"

"I hate you"

"I hate you as much as you hate me"

"You'll never know the whole greatness of my hate"

"Drink, Mary" – I remind her and shake the bottle in front of her nose.

She endures my stare, takes the bottle out of my hand and puts it near the broken glass.

"Fine. I'm pregnant!" – she glares.

Finally.

"Was it so hard to tell at first place?" – I say softly.

"Fuck you" – she spits into my face. I calmly rub my sleeve against my face and wipe everything out. Well, I knew with whom I mess with.

"Grab your things, you move into the manor" – I take the bottle of wine, yank my head up and make a long gulp walking towards the table but her voice stops me half a way.

"Who gave you the right to order me?"

"My child whom you're bearing under your heart. Believe me I feel no pleasure in ordering you and standing the insults you keep rewarding me with for as long as I'm here"

Her laugh makes me frown. Is everything all right with her? And when she starts talking her voice is sweet but pouring with venom.

"Kenway and who the hell told you this child is yours, huh?"

She's just trying to stab me, I know she does this out of spite. I throw look at Anne, but she drops her eyes away from me.

"Stop bluffing I know this child is mine"

"How?"

"I…vaguely but I remember that night…I passed out and that's when…" – I feel embarrassed to talk about it in Anne's present but continue anyway – "that's when I spilled the seed inside you, not intentionally of course"

"Huh" – Mary scoffs – "I remember that night and you haven't spilled into me because I passed out after you when you were already not it me, but lying on the sand. Got it?!"

My heart sank somewhere down my feet and stayed there. How can it be? It can't be, no.

"Whose this child then?" – I ask barely moving my lips and my voice is fearfully hoarse and quiet.

Suddenly the door flies open and our own storm inside becomes faint for a while before the loudness of the storm outside. Someone's leg steps into and then the whole body of…

"Israel's" – Mary looks at the door as if at a sudden salvation – "it's Israel's child"

"Mary…" – Anne hisses quietly but Mary brushes it away in a swift gesture.

"What?" – Israel frowns coming in and all I want now is to tear this man apart.

To finish me off completely Mary continues with a triumph smile on her lips and her every following word strikes me like a whip.

"And after you left me there, cheaped everything what happened between us that night and stamped me into the mud, Israel offered me his comfort and that was amazing" – she utters devilishly proud of herself.

"I can't believe it" – I snarl looking at her – "you're just making it up to stab me, you couldn't do this, no"

"Yet I've done it, Kenway! Was I supposed to remain faithful? To whom? To you?! After what you did to me?!"

"Mary I…" – I start but suddenly see no reason in talking about it any longer. I turn towards the door. It is still open and Israel is still standing in the entrance – he is blinking blankly, looking like someone has just knocked him on the head. And I see no reason in keeping control any longer.

And I swoop upon him and the fight starts and all my fury, disappointment and grief find their way out.

* * *

I've never seen Mary after that.

That night was a catastrophe and it seems I'll never stop playing it again and again in my mind thinking of how everything could have turned out if I was more restrained or more understanding and sorted my words out better.

Now I'm sitting in the prison cell. And all I can think of is Mary. I would be so happy to forget her but…the reason is that I can't.

It's cold and wet in here, rats are running across the cell from time to time and I pray the food and the water we get won't kill us.

Yes – us.

There are two people sitting in this cell – Charles and I. He got in here almost at the same time as I did, maybe some several days earlier but that is all. He told me he attacked the convoy that promised a top-class booty and it seemed to him a piece of cake as all three ships were weekly armored – well, that's what he was informed about - but only one point he didn't bared in mind – the convoy was a trap and the Inagua's tavern former owner, Mr. Young, was spying for the Crown. Mr. Young, on his last day on Inagua, told Charles there was a lonely convoy with treasures on thousands of pounds inside, told him the convoy route was a big secret and that he, himself, knew it accidently, and that it would be silly to lose such a chance. And Charles believed him – he paid him two thousand reals and got the route of _La Serpiente_. When he got on the place and attacked the convoy - two mighty pirate hunter brigs joined the battle and it was over.

Well, it was over for Charles' attack, not for him precisely – he spitted upon _La Serpiente_ and her unbelievable treasures and at full speed rushed away to save his arse. The hunters were firing at the stern of his _Ranger_ all the way till they finally lost the track two days after. They escaped but the ship was a wreck and needed repairing and careenage. He had to command to drop anchor on the small island where his crew took the ship to the shore and started repairs.

Only three days after, when the ship was still not ready, the navy came out of the blue.

In one aspect Charles was lucky – before attacking the convoy he covered the name of his ship – and that meant when the navy came upon them they, of course, guessed the ship was pirating and so all the sailors ashore were pirates. They guessed this must be that ship that attacked _La Serpiente _almost a week ago, but they could only guess as no one on the convoy, no one on the pirate hunters ships couldn't say the name of the vessel, which attacked the first and which the second were trailing. The navy didn't have the body of a crime and this meant they couldn't hang Charles and his crew straight away. And they took them in here, into Port Royal, Jamaica.

And Charles was thrown into this prison cell, in which in two-three days I joined him, so to - _"_keep this ranting bastard company" – as the officer said after found out Charles and I know each other. Charles did was ranting and screaming and shouting all the days and night through like a devil coyote and maybe guards believed that if they put his comrade into the cell he would finally shut up and mind his mouth with talking but at least not ranting. Well, I reckon it helped.

For the time.

And…it must be interesting how I myself got in here?

This is one a long story…but who cares if I'm stuck in the prison cell anyways…

* * *

First I think I should start from the events of that catastrophic night which were responsible for my leaving the Great Inagua as fast as the storm was over. I, literally run away from my own island just not to see the pair of these impudent hazel eyes. But…I better be consistent.

I was punching and beating and bashing my dear friend Israel Hands and he was only shielding his face with his hands until the first astonishment ended and he could start responding. Blankly I heard Anne and Mary screaming something in attempt to stop us, but I didn't hear them and I doubt Israel did. Too much unexpressed emotions were between us – it had been accumulating during months of mutual irritation and now that I knew he fucked my Mary I wanted only one thing – to kill him. And her. But later – killing women with babes is bad. Killing women without babes – is another thing. I had to wait.

Everything was blurred before my eyes when eventually we parted. How did it happen? Who parted us? – I don't remember. And then I understood the world was blurred because Israel had hit my eye and rain was pouring over the other one. First there was a shot of someone's pistol – then someone's strong hands were clasping me away. The hands were too strong to belong to Mary or Anne and soon I found out it was Calico holding me away from my enemy.

"Don't want to see you ever again in mah life! Get out of here Kenway!" – Mary was screaming and I wished these were tears running down her face but it must have been just simple rain – "Get out! I'm dead sick of ya! Get out of mah sight!"

And I did. Israel punched me, he gave me a good thrashing just like I did gave him, and it was painful. But Mary excelled him in thousand times – her words tore my heart to scraps.

I broke loose of Jack's grip, gave her one last look. And I left.

Stamping my steps away and into the town I heard the slam of her door and then I turned the street and found my shelter in the tavern. That night I must have drunk empty a serious amount of the tavern's alcohol stock. In the morning - or was it a day already – the storm drained itself and Ade helped me, swaying something badly, to step on board the _Jackdaw. _We set sails and the rest of the day I spent in my cabin, up to midnight, but then when I opened my eyes and my memory gladly reminded me the reason of my hangover I decided I'd better forget about it again… and again… and again. And again.

To make the long story short "again" must be repeated a lot more.

But eventually I came to senses. I had a fair reason for it – the Observatory. Though now I see the reason wasn't really "fair" for thanks to this "fair reason" I found out how the walls of Port Royal look from inside. Not a sight for salty eyes – believe me.

* * *

Well, as I was thinking I would be ready to face Sage's deception – no, I wasn't ready. As Mary was warning me – yes, he did, _almost _did leaded me to my premature grave. This man is on top of my "must-kill-list" and then such personas like Israel Hands, Mary Read follow. And then, only then – Woodes Rogers and Governor Torres.

So, what happened?

Oh, yeah, he showed me the Observatory – after I killed Ben (and this is my deed I'm not proud of, but I had to. To be honest, his face haunts my dreams, but about this – later) – he leaded me through the jungles guarded by some loony tribe warriors who almost pinned me with their darts like some hedgehog, but once I guessed to turn my Vision on and shadow to their hide places to then knock them down – it went easier.

And – yes. There lied the Observatory – the most mysterious place I've ever been to. Roberts showed me one mysterious artefact – the precious skull with some witchcraft abilities. Those little things with drops of blood inside – one just have to insert one of them into the skull and would be able to see (imagine it!) – to see what the proprietor of this blood sees at the moment. That was Jack's blood in the first cube – and there were Anne and Mary in front of him and they were cooking something grand about pillaging some grand convoy (Why the fuck pregnant Anne and Mary agreed to take part in this I'll never know).

After showing me this miracle Sage left me there, wounded – inside the precious Observatory I was so obsessed to find. It was all mine. But what could I do with it? Maybe Anne and Mary and Ade were right – this thing didn't worth the efforts of so many years. I'm just sorry I understood it too late.

Too fucking late.

By a miracle I found the way out of there. And that's where, on the beach, I found the Sage…with my men. Through all the years I was a captain who never had a riot on his ship, who never had a single man against him, I faced the cruel reality – the one that has the treasures wins. My whole crew betrayed me and defected to Roberts, who had this rhinestone skull in his hands.

And Roberts delivered me to the Spanish authorities.

* * *

"I miss her so much, mate"

"I know what you feel, Charles"

"They'll hang us, and we planned to get married next month, she has my child"

"I know"

"We're in deep shit, Kenway…in deep shit we are fucking heaven and hell"

"Aye"

"I never understood your odd loyalty to your wife though, remember? Why missing one particular skirt when you can have any Betty ashore who herself would be happy to widen her legs"

"Aye, that's what Ben used to say"

"Who knew I'll be missing not one particular skirt but one particular pants, hah"

"The thing is not in skirts or Betties or plumpness of tits, Charles"

"Aye…person"

"Person, aye"

"Do you miss Read?"

…

"I do… Devil curse me I do"

The lonely rat runs across the middle of the cell and I manage to catch it at the last moment. I break the disgusting creature's neck and throw it away to the others we've caught before. Better we kill them than they start unnoticeably eating us in sleep.

"This cell is driving me mad"

"Don't start it again, I won't live through another cuckoo-Vane. We'll make it somehow, we'll find the way"

"Wish you were right, but something tells me this shit is deeper than any other we've been into before. Even when we had to swim in the middle of the storm hunted by sharks"

"I really don't think-…"

I never finish as the group of guards stops near our cell and one of them starts to stir with the lock. The barred door opens, but there can be no thoughts of escaping, as there are too many of them and we have no weapon. They have a lot.

"Edward Kenway outside!" – one of them shouts and two others come inside to chain my wrists.

"What's happening?" – I try my luck but fruitlessly.

"Shut up, scum! Move!" – I get a strong push and something prevents me from asking further.

They lead me outside. One guard ahead, one is holding me be the arm. They take me into the court yard and according to the hum of voices there's whether a trial held whether a hanging. I wonder why I deserved such a luxury to diversify my usual routine with an amusement like that. Because of quieting Charles down? Something tells me this is not the reason.

We finally pass the short corridor and appear in the courtyard. There's a trial in its progress. I turn my head to see who these wretched souls are and…lose my breath.

Mary and Anne.

**Eeeeh...here we are. Sad things coming...:'-(**


	7. I Lick My Wounds

**Hello, everyone! dammit...finally. I wanted to finish this one earlier but with Easter, with a drive into the other city - I just couldn't make it, sorry, I really do want to update faster but life if a busy thing and time is a cruel bitch (pardon) so - yeah, that's how it goes. Sad things coming but with this chapter I drew it a little bit away from us - just wanted to tell what life Mary had whilst Edward was finishing his hunt for the Observatory and ended it up in prison and - here we are - it stretched out a bit.  
So, I'm shutting up, enjoy reading!**

* * *

7

I Lick My Wounds

"The charges, sir. I'll hear them again"

"Milord. His Majesty's Court contends that the defendants, Mary Read and Anne Bonny, did piratically, feloniously and in a hostile manner, attack, engage and take seven certain fishing boats. Secondly this court contends that the defendants lurked upon the high seas and did set upon, shoot at, and take two certain merchant sloops and…"

The list of our sins continues on and on but I spit upon listening. There are so many people in here, in the courtyard where out trial is held. So many people came for the only reason – to see the most scandal hearing of all: two female pirates condemned and hanged. What disgusting to God creatures – women in pants; women using cutlasses; women swearing and women...speaking their mind. Disgusting, isn't it? This trial would have made me laugh…If only I wasn't so worried about the nearest future awaiting Anne, me and the babes in our bellies. I know we won't die today or tomorrow or any time in the following six months. And still the prospect is not attractive at all. To be honest, it scares the shit out of me. I've heard stories of Port Royal and its trials. Not a single hero of these stories escaped this place alive.

But I am trying to pretend I don't give a damn - I won't let them see they took my spirit away. I won't. I was truly smiling the shittiest of my smirks to assure them in opposite. For some time. Until a certain blond man appeared held by two guards and still in their company was taken to sit amongst all these fake and bureaucratic people who are smiling looking at Anne and me, anticipating out death. But he is not.

Edward Kenway…

* * *

I haven't seen him since that horrible night that parted us forever.

The rage was filling me over and I couldn't stop shouting and abusing him. He gave me that look…each time I recall it the blood turns into ice in my veins – the look as if I have taken everything away from him, as if he only wanted me dead at the spot. And he disappeared in the night. It was the point of no return. My tears were masked by raindrops running down my face and I felt on the break of sobbing. The fury disappeared too - he had taken it with him – and I rushed into my house, away from Anne and Jack and Israel – from everyone – I didn't want them see how hard I was trembling.

The door slammed behind me and I freezed in the center of the room trying to pull myself together. The time for grief would be later – when I'm alone…well, with my babe only, I guess I'm never alone now thanks to Kenway. I tried breathing in and out slowly and steadily to calm down. I knew Anne would come in soon, ready to comfort me. I knew Israel would come in soon ready to demand an explanation for why he had to take part in fight he wasn't supposed to. For why I had told that thing.

And I was right.

"Mary! What the hell has just happened?!" – Israel broke into returning the sound of rain back with him. Anne was trying to keep him out, to tell him into coming down but what could she do against the indignant man – fairly indignant. I turned to him – the bottom lip is split and the bruise starting to swell on his cheekbone just near his almost transparent scar. He was breathing hardly, the fire of fight still in his eyes but I saw he was trying hard to come to senses for a normal talk without raising voices to shout.

What could I say?

I went over to the cooking table, took the clean cup and poured some tea. My hands had almost stopped shaking, but I, myself, was far from coming into the normal state.

"Sit down, Israel, please" – I asked and surprised with how dead I sounded, but it was Anne to react first.

"You're an idiot, Mary!" – she shouted at me standing in the entrance and portraying the fury itself – "What an idiot you are! Pushed him away when you both need each other most! Fool! I just…" – she halted to take her breath and then continued – "I don't want to talk to you and now I'll go and try to fix the mess you've just made to poor Edward!"

That was too much.

"Don't even try it, Anne! If you tell him anything I would leave Jack's crew at once an' your useless man will have a riot on his ship an' you both will be thrown ashore, you got it?!"

She gave me one last glare and clenched her fists tight.

"What a bitch you are, Mary - first you wrecked Edward and now you talk in such a way to me - to the only person you have on your side no matter what! Know what? Fuck you! I'm fed up!" – and with this she slammed the door shut behind her and the silence fell.

Israel slowly sat by the table, in such a way as if he was afraid I would bite his head off if he'd be too swift in moves. I banged his tea onto the table and sat down myself. Looked back at the bottle of wine, wished it so bad to finish it in one greedy gulp – just to lighten the pain - but considering one glass I had already drank, I couldn't afford myself such a luxury. I sighed and Israel pushed the cup to me.

"Guess you need it more than I do" – he said and it was impossible to say from his voice what he was thinking about it all at that moment. I took a sip, still wanting to say nothing. It felt that if I say just a single word I would burst into hysterical crying.

"So, you're with Edward's child?"

I simply nodded and he sighed with a face of a person who now has to deal with tidying other people's mess.

"And why he has to think this child is mine?"

I didn't answer. He reached for my hand and I drew it away.

"Mary, I think I deserve some explaining, just a bit maybe"

And this time I didn't answer too.

"Mysterious Mary Read…" – he drawled – "I came in here t'find a shelter from the rain and got a bunch of fierce punches instead, aaand a woman to whom I feel a certain attraction, which I may call love, if you please. Well this woman tells she has my child, which is, much as I would like to, but is impossible as we haven't even had sex and I haven't even seen her naked" – he smiled. I got it he tried to cheer me up a bit, but it wasn't a success. Israel became serious – "Mary?" – he looked at me with waiting.

"Aye?"

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"No" – I snapped looking into the cup but once raised my eyes on him I slightly softened. The man didn't deserve such treatment – "I jos'…I'd be glad if we don't. It would be easier"

"Easier – aye, but right – no" – he answered looking so fucking understanding considering how mean I was with him.

I rose up on my feet, the boring sickness returned and I made few steps not knowing where to head until I thought of the window and came over to it. The rain was still sheeting and all I could bring out from the sight were blurred stains of light from the shacks and the tavern with ships at the pier – the biggest stain far away.

"I'd be glad if you forget 'bout this incident at all, Israel. No one needs to know I'm pregnant and I'm not asking you to pretend my child's farther" – I said with sudden strength grasped.

"Then you needed me just for the time? to stab Edward? I was just a pawn in the fight between you two"

I didn't say a thing. What could I say if he understood the point himself? I was horrible.

I heard him coming closer. So close that I felt his breath on my wet neck. Was it a tide of air I felt indicating his hands so close to my waist but not daring to touch me?

"Mary" – he said and his voice was hoarse. He wanted me, I just wandered how he could still want me after I made Edward and him fighting and after he knew I'm bearing Kenway's child. He didn't wait to my answer and thus continued himself – "You realize I _do _care for ya?"

"Aye" – I said without any emotion still gazing through the window.

"You realize I've been caring for ya for a quite some time, just since I found out who you really are?"

"I do"

"Can you…" – he haltered picking up the right words – "can you try letting me in?" – before I could answer he continued hastily – "I realize I don't have a _certain man_'s charm, maybe I'm not as cocky and reckless and moron-like as his is, but I can offer something else" – he made a small meaningful pause – "M'not asking ya to let me be your child's father, I'm just asking if you can let me do my steps in this direction – let me be closer to ya, don't push me away and I'll prove I deserve this. I'm reliable, I'm caring and I'm a good lover if you need to know it" – he finished and his hands floating an inch before my waist some five seconds ago landed on my arms – "Can you let me be closer?"

He spoke his point through but still I was thinking only of the man who must be drinking his mind down at the moment; was still asking myself – why the hell had I told him that thing?

* * *

Why had I told that?

Further one and a half month I would be constantly asking myself this question. What monster could have told such a thing? That Israel is the father of my child, that I don't want to see Edward ever again…how could I? How the hell could I?

What if I were more restrained? What if I were more cooled-down? I could ignore his cockiness - his cockiness is his shield, he always becomes unbelievable when he is nervous, uncertain, but doesn't want others to see it. His cockiness is his shield as much as indifference is mine and I just needed to ignore it and make it easier for both of us. But…damn, he pissed me off so much when he said he waits for my apologies and I blazed up as brushwood.

"We'll see"

That's what I answered Israel that night. What can I say? He had a right to try though I doubted it would help him to lead me out of "fallen-into-Kenway" zone. For God's sake…I'm still having his child.

When Hands left my house I spent my usual ten minutes above the bucket as my babe expressed his own special "gratitude" for my behavior that night. He didn't like the outcome I suppose. I didn't too, at least on this we shared opinions – I hated myself as much as he must have hated me. Then I lied down onto my bed and had my unusual hour of sniffles, sobs and hysterical tears. Eventually I ended up talking to the baby with my shaky whimpering voice. I had a minor thought of how silly it is to talk with two-month bag of flesh who doesn't even understand me but this thought seemed so stupid. It never started seeming any smarter from than point on when I left Corrine's brothel and realized with an unexpected brightness that this is_ my _child inside me and I couldn't name it "a clot of flesh" or "a bag of flesh" any longer.

How do women call it? Hormones? Well, maybe the thing's with them, because I couldn't stop crying even if I wanted to. Aye, the thing was in hormones I suppose, it couldn't be because of a feeling I had destroyed, with my own hands, everything that had ever been between Kenway and me.

It was the early morning when I finally felt my eyelids - swollen red and aching – heavy and begun to bring my monologue to a close.

"Well…at any rate" – I stroked my belly and cuddled to the side to get more comfortable for a sleep – "at any rate we'll make it, baby. Mum will take care of things, all will come right in the end, you know it always does…or so they say" – I finished and realized the one needed persuading in this was only me.

* * *

The rain continued all the next day and the day after and I didn't dare to leave the house. I was afraid I may catch a cold, then it would grow into pneumonia and I will die in my shack all alone taking my babe along with me. No one visited me – I think Anne was still pissed off and Israel simply didn't want to be annoying. Luckily I had a good stock of food in my small cool cellar, which mostly consisted of potatoes, carrot, corn some dried fish and meat. When I woke up after that sleepless night the sun was already setting. I ran over to the window just in time to see the _Jackdaw _sailing away. This sight made me spend one more unusual crying hour (it seems it started to become usual), which I accompanied with cleaning the floor from the mess – the stew everywhere, the broken cup on the floor, the broken glass on the cooking table, dirty tableware on the dining table. There, on the dining table, were still lying the property disposal papers Edward left and I put them into the small drawer in the bureau. Maybe one day I could find courage to leave the house and take them back into the manor.

I cooked another pot of stew, ate it – happily I didn't have to force myself: the baby was hungry then I was hungry as well – then ate one more portion, washed the dishes and went to bed. Even that I had slept the whole day I easily passed out and on the next morning I simply didn't feel like raising myself up and thus slept the whole day through and was woken by the wolf hunger when it was already dark.

"Fine mum you've got, huh?" – I grumbled finally kicking myself out of the bed and shuffling into the kitchen. Unfortunately I forgot to put the stew I had made into the cool cellar under the floor and in those twenty-four hours or so I had been lying in bed it had hopelessly spoiled – "I allow you to miss one feed time when I'm too old to be able to eat myself an' you'd be have to feeding me" – I excused at the grumble of my stomach imagining how baby must be cursing me at the moment. Oh my… good imagination I have, huh?

The next day it was still raining and I started thinking I needed to step out of the house just to empty the bucket with rubbish and sewage because it had already started stinking. Well, if I started thinking of it didn't mean I did it. I still had that hard and dark feeling as if I survived the storm but lost everyone I loved.

On the next day Israel came by. He brought fresh water and fruits and took the garbage out to the town's cesspit. He said Anne was asking how I was doing and I was glad to hear she still cared about me. He didn't stay long, probably didn't want to interfere my self-torment, probably wanted to give me time to sort everything out. Smart man he is.

The next day it was just the same – he came by, brought food and water, asked how I was feeling, said Anne was glad to hear I was all right and then left. Then Satine came and asked if she could do anything to me, told me some fresh news and gossips, updated about the brothel's operating and left too. I was starting to feel fed up – it was good to revel in my torments for Edward but it was almost a week already, the rain had stopped and I felt bored. Later that day, nearly at night, it was Emily, whom I was sincerely happy to see – she had always had this shiny radiance around her, as if the world was a perfect place and she couldn't stop feeling happy about it – somehow this radiance touched the people she had her focus on and with her bright wide smile she somehow made me feel easier and even made me laugh at her jokes. I didn't blame her for revealing Edward my secret – if this man wants to know something - he will - through bribes, through force and in Emily's case – through guile. When she was leaving she hugged me, smiled the last time and I closed the door behind her wondering how the girl of seventeen years could appear so wise and yet after losing both of her parents in the fierce storm - grasped by the brothel owner which supplied her with food in return of the _special _work she had to do, then running away and dressing up as a lad to get a man's job – how she managed to stay this bright and sincere.

The next day I left my shell and headed towards the pier planning to find Anne, make peace with her and flow into the usual routine.

How much unusual crying hours I had during these five days I'll never know.

* * *

Eventually I went through all the stages of grief and ended with acceptance – the sharp pain became blunt, that was all the difference. My life plunged into the usual pattern of handling the tavern and the crew. Whenever I wasn't at sea I would be on Inagua. I was glad Jack hadn't found out our little secret, it was up to Anne to hold him away from it and even the events of that night didn't reveal it to him.

As for Anne and me…when I came to her she gave me a long estimating look and it went something like this:

"You won't tell me what I haven't already told mahself" – I said but her gaze didn't change. She said only one thing:

"You have your God-given-right to fuck your life up, who am I to prevent you from doing it"

We embraced, but still I felt her coldness, though as days went by it gradually disappeared. I was glad we could talk as if nothing happened, to have the same trustful relationships returned. I don't know what I would do without Anne and her warm friendship those days…and not only those days – always.

Israel kept inclining the same strategy – slowly but steadily he tried to win the place in my heart and even if he was pleased with how things turned out with Kenway he didn't show any hint of triumph. Most of the time when I was ashore, and, that is, was in the tavern – sorting the counting books out – he would be just sitting there – if I was busy he would leave to sort his own business out or simply kept polite silence and if I made a break he would take me for a short walk or take care of me having a good lunch. When the work in the tavern was over – at least when I considered I've done a lot and could go – he would persuade me into having a longer walk, through the jungles and to the ruins on the opposite side of the island. It was our usual route and reaching the ruins we used to sit there for a while and then go back.

When on the fifth or the seventh walk his lips became too close to mine I let him lock them together and from that time on that's how our walks would always end – gradually these moments were becoming longer, hotter and greedier as with evident lust he would pin me to the door of my house and pull me flush against him, so tight that I would feel how _hard _he wanted me. One thing tortured my mind – is this man made of iron if he can wait for so long carefully chasing me like he would chase a timid doe? Maybe this was the difference between Kenway and him – Israel was older and wiser. I didn't promise him anything and he didn't ask for more than he could get, never started horrific talks of "lets-sort-our-relationships-out" or "let-me-in-and-lets-have-sex" kind and in time I started value his presence in my life even if he never brought me thrills Edward always gave me even with his single look.

* * *

It was month and a half after that fight with Edward and precisely that time I've made the worst of decision I have ever made.

I told Jack I wasn't going to sail anymore and that he had to find a new quartermaster. I didn't explain him the real reason, just said I had a serious business of my own. I still could move as fast and agile as always but I was too scared to hurt my babe to do it. Anne also told him she wants to stay on Inagua, she planned to tell him everything the other days and was still wondering how to make it the best way she could think of.

A week ago Emily told everything to Vane and to say he was happy is to say nothing. He was all smiles, bought her a house not far from the beach and promised he'd try to settle down, or better say it meant – not to risk as much as before – he proposed her and they were going to get married just after he is back from the hunt for some royal, but not really protected, booty he was showing off about for a long time by then. The next day he set sails.

A week left and there were still no signs of him coming back though that convoy should have passed a day-distance from Inagua.

Apart from fear there was also one more reason that kept me away from sailing – my belly was growing fast and even if I still could hide it behind the voluminous layers of the shirt and cover everything with my vest, soon it promised to give my away. I was envious of Anne's neat belly, bearing in mind the fact our terms were the same her stomach changed just a tiny little bit while mine was growing in fearful speed. We talked about it with Satine, who knew about pregnancy more than any woman on the island, and she explained it saying Anne's baby must have been resting against the inner side of her womb, closer to her spine, whilst mine was leaning the outer side making my belly stretch more and more as he grew. She also joked I may have twins. I didn't like the sound of that - not-at-all.

* * *

Two days after I had told Jack I'm leaving the _William _he made me an offer. He had a nice route of a nice ship with loads of nice expensive spices inside.

"Mary, one last time, I'm begging you!" – he looked at me with his best-made basset eyes as I was standing behind the counter in the tavern and it was the calmest time of the day – late morning – "Two fucking days before she would pass unpatrolled waters where I'm planning to snatch her and I simply won't make it to find a normal quartermaster this fast! Please! You won't even need to fight if you don't want to – the ship is weak and all I ask is to be there, to hold the crew in one mighty fist. It would be the last time and then you're free as air, I promise!"

Well, who could say no on that? I, myself, wanted to feel the happiness of standing behind the helm one last time - I knew with my prospects I wouldn't have such opportunity in several years…or maybe decades. And so I agreed and so did Anne, who wanted to be at sea one last time just like I did.

Emily was nervous as Vane still hadn't come back and I offered her to take part in this small peaceful voyage just to unbend and take it easy. She didn't want to, but I insisted telling her she would feel much better at sea where she won't have to spend all her days looking at the horizon and waiting for the _Ranger _to appear, where she will be having some tasks as hand and this would distract her a bit". She agreed.

Never in my life have I made a mistake worse.

* * *

"Mary, you can't really do it, I thought we've already discussed it"

"I think it's not your prerogative to decide it"

"Damn, but I care for ya. I'm scared you'll get hurt"

"The matter's settled - tomorrow I leave on board the _William _and will come back to sit my arse here by the end of the week" – I said and pulled him closer by the collar – "now shut up and kiss me"

Surprisingly but he obeyed. He locked me up with his hands pressed against the wall on both sides of me and leaned down to meet my lips half a way. What was even more surprising is that I didn't feel sickness that night and could fully enjoy Israel's expertise in this activity. The man definitely knows what he is doing and he does it so good.

We had our usual night walk on our usual route and everything was fine before I dropped a word about me joining Rackham's crew for the last time and from that moment on Israel didn't stop telling me over and over again about every outcome that may happen due to my stupidity. To be honest, I wished I hadn't told him about it at all and just left the next morning but I thought it would be…not really nice, I suppose, after how kind Israel had been with me.

Happily I made it to lead our already annoying conversation into far more pleasant flow.

His hands were still resting on the wooden wall of my house, locking all the retreat ways for me, while mine were flying from gently petting his collarbone into holding his jawline and softly stroking it, until they find their place wrapping his waist - with this I arched my back and sharply flung my leg around his, drawing a muffled gasp out of him, when our delicate parts pressed together and start creating sweet delightful friction.

"Mary…" – he gasped against my lips and tried to draw back from me; for a moment he made it – "I really think you must stay here, if not for yourself then for your baby" – he pulled me against him, his hands appeared underneath my shirt and he ran them along my bared stomach leaving goose-bumps with touches of his cool fingers. I would lie if I tell it didn't turn me on (though recalling that night later I would always feel guilty) – "I'm terrified of losing ya" – he breathed out into my ear and bit my lobe whilst his amazing hands shifted to rub my lower back slightly merging into under-pants-line area and making me feel terrific tension at the bottom of my stomach, which needed nothing else but release.

I think I couldn't even hear him already, my mind was flying in heavens and the only thought I had in my head was – get this man into my bed and ride him until we both get our…_release_. Maybe one thing justified me – I hadn't had sex for months and being pregnant I noticed my need only increased and my sex drive had been already driving me insane. If I had a man wanting me – why not using such an opportunity?

He was still telling something disturbing whilst his hands were already on my breasts, kneading them, slightly pinching my nipples and it was so good that I felt my knickers already wet, not to say dripping.

"I just want ya to be safe…you see?" – he said with a smack of our lips and kept his face back from me. He was waiting for an answer. I had to nod – just for him to continue doing these sensational things he had been doing with me. Probably my short nod was enough for him or probably he wanted badly the same as I did – he pulled me even closer if it was only possible and embracing his leg with mine I felt the prominent bump in his pants while his proprietor kept kissing me and keeping me pressed tight with his hands tracing the whole length of my spine. Maybe my neighbours could see everything from their windows, maybe there were people passing by, but at that certain moment I didn't care, all plunged into primitive instincts.

"Mary, don't go tomorrow…stay here" – he kept gasping having less and less time to draw words out – "Stay with me I…just stay…oh holly Christ" – he groaned and I shut him up with my tongue in his mouth but eventually he made it out for air – "I can't go with ya even if I want to…the _Blackbeard'_s still at repairs…please, I beg ya"

"Israel" – I expired breathing brokenly, hoping he'd get the hint to shut the fuck up.

"Oh fuck" – he gave in and words were forgotten until through several seconds that felt like eternity he said – "want me t'come in?"

My hoarse moan was louder than words. That's exactly what I wanted him to do…adding to the bunch of his other actions I was hoping for. Pressing the door with my back I started feverishly fishing for the key in my pockets while Israel stood leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath. I found the key soon but my hands were trembling something badly and I dropped it. Finally the door was open and put the key back into the pocket. So swiftly that I gasped Israel pulled me close, in rush motion he scooped me up and I folded my legs around his hips, as he supported me up with his hands on the back of my thighs, which he kept stoking up and down whilst we broke into the house savoring each other, anticipating what was going to happen.

I didn't want to waste time with caresses. Israel seemed to share my opinion. We banged onto the bed and for some time just kept kissing. Maybe ten minutes passed, maybe ten seconds – anyway I started to lose my patience which was scarce from the very beginning. With one fierce spurt I rolled over and got him under. Unbuttoned my shirt, slipped it down to give Israel a better view and did the same with his vest and then his shirt. I passed lower to reach for his pants and pulled them down and Israel Hands - at his full might to say it – came up before me. Several seconds filled with his content groaning I was just stroking him with my hands and he was just kneading my breasts rousing the desire hotter and hotter in me. And – yes – all was going great, until… he said three simple words.

"I love you"

And it destroyed everything.

Three simple words but joined together in this both sweet both complicated sentence they appeared too much for me. I stopped my activity and my hands flung down my sides.

"No" – I sighed and lifted myself up from the bed.

"What?!" – Israel's indignant voice followed me as I picked my shirt up from the floor and started buttoning it back.

"I can't" – I simply said.

"What does it mean you can't?" he frowned and when I threw a look at him I saw he wasn't already this mighty - all parts of his body expressed his disappointment to put it mildly.

"Mary!" – he groaned and I understood such suddenness must have been also painful.

"Israel, I…I just can't…I want you but…it wouldn't be fair and I feel like doing something wrong…maybe when the babe is born we'll manage to make it but now…" my eyes fell upon the scar on my palm and I shook my head in despair.

Israel rose up on the bed and came over to me.

"What nonsense you're talking 'bout, just listen to yourself. Course you can do it, just don't think of him – think of me and it's gonna be all right" – he stroked my shoulders, his black eyes were looking down at me so fucking fondly, but it only made me irritated. Why? Still don't know.

"Nothin' we'll be all right you see?"

"Why? Why not?! For almost two months everything was all right between us and I thought you started to value me. Wasn't I patient, wasn't I understanding?! Yes, I said I love ya and you have to live with it because I really do. What's the problem, Mary, I can't understand what's the damn problem?!"

"I don't love you!" – I screamed out before I could stop myself.

I expected shouts in return – that's how Edward would act – he would say how stupid I am, he would speak his mind out fully, in plain language explaining me every point he's not content with, after what we'd scream at each other and I'd try to go away to cool down but he wouldn't let me do it and everything would end up in the same bed where the quarrel begun. Yes that's how Edward would act…but not Israel.

His face became as firm as the stone wall, he somewhat straightened himself, looked at me strictly as if I was a disobedient child, then with restrained dignity he picked up his clothes, pulled the pants up and…left.

He is a good man. He didn't deserve such a treatment…But what could I do with myself?

The next day the _William _set sails and head off from Inagua and into the voyage – short but promising good plunder.

This voyage changed lives of everyone who was on board. No one could escape their fate.

Me included.

* * *

**Sorry it wasn't much about Edward, but Mary's story needed to be told. I know most of you hate Israel but this also needed to be done and anyways we all know Mary and Edward are made for each other (this is the story about Kiddway for God's sake!).**

**ALERT! Next chapter will be Mary's again - I haven't finished her narration yet: the battle with the navy is ahead and then we'll go back to Port Royal with live-narration continued.**

**I hope you all feel good about the summer coming - it is so good to have warm weather and free from snow streets (bike rides - yeeeeah!)**


	8. Posh Drinks

**Aaand here I'm back again, I tried it hard to make next chapter ready for you as soon as I only could. And here we have two in a row (the next would be uploaded a bit later. The chapter is tough, the next one will be calmer but more sad. Hope both will be equally delicious for you. **

* * *

8

Posh Drinks

The short, but promising voyage that changed lives of everyone on board the _William_ – aye…if I only knew this would happen…her face would be hunting my dreams till the end of my days…

The events of that morning I wouldn't forget ever in my life even if I wanted to.

It was the 2nd of December, 1719, and recalling it back it seems to me I can remember every detail, every fucking trifle of that morning. Maybe I could somehow sense it coming, but that time I thought my pregnancy was the reason – the colors seemed brighter: so saturated that sored my eyes; the sun was shining too bright too and all I wanted that morning standing at the helm of the _William _was to go down into my cabin and hide from that irritating intensity that surrounded me whatever I laid my eyes upon. However my interests didn't go on account that morning – Jack was lying drunk in the captain's cabin; the men of the crew were whether out of consciousness whether having damn tough hangover – I simply couldn't leave the duty because there was no one to take it from me.

Anne was lying in the hammock tied between the bannisters of the deck and the yard of the bowsprit – our favorite sickness-free place – and Emily soon joined her as it was seen from her pale face it wasn't one of her best mornings. But, as for me, despite this sharpness of everything I sensed, I felt fine – the sickness that I had when I woke up came to its end as soon as I ate several kiwis I had been longing for. To much surprise of our cook. Never had I thought I'd be loving kiwis so passionately.

I stood there keeping a tight hold of the helm and observing the deck – those men who could already keep the contents of their guts inside were unloading the ship we had engaged at night. The booty was just as Jack had promised, at least _that time_ he hadn't just been blabbing unreasonable shit (though wouldn't have everything been better if he had) – there were expensive spices carried from India and to Havana and, which made the crew happy the most – posh drinks.

That's freaking why we were still drifting with our anchor dropped just where we boarded the ship – the night's fight wasn't long and the ship was boarded easily; some of men joined the crew, some preferred to die with weapon in their hands (the choice was theirs), some of them were still locked in the lower hold of the _William _– It was easy and as soon as our men saw what load had the ship been carrying they immediately decided they wouldn't mind refusing their shares of gold in exchange of taking their hands on that exclusive alcohol.

I had been insisting on unloading the ship first – experience told me there's no good in staying on the pillaging place for long, it was dangerous – but the crew, so supportive most of the time, at once united against me and rallied around Jack who suddenly became their beloved captain. That son of a bitch patted me on the shoulder and leniently said "everything would be all right, Miss Read, don't you worry – one night of stop hasn't killed anyone yet"…

I think he regrets his stupidity now…just as I do…I should have stayed on Inagua as my heart had been prompting me to, but…Too late - makes no sense in self-lashing now.

And so I could only force men to tie up our brig to the ship, which with grumbling but they did, and then there had been a party all night long – sober stayed only Anne, Emily and I. Even if we weren't pregnant I don't think we would have joined the party – someone had to watch the ship.

And so I did – thinking of the number of lashes each man would get for their disobedience once we're away from this place. I won't lie – I liked the idea.

The night had been long and I slept only two hours so being on duty was starting to turn into hell's hard kind of work. I was happy the crew had finally started working: it seemed everything was flowing back into its normal routine; the horizon was clear and no flapping of sails were to hear behind that wall of rocks on the left – and I closed my eyes. Just for a second.

Or so it seemed.

It was so good to see nothing but soothing blackness after the sharpness of every color around – like a wet sponge pressed to dry and chapped skin.

…

"Mary!"

With a startle I opened my eyes wide and there was Emily in front of me, or precisely her round with fear eyes my focus fell upon.

"What? What's wron'?!" – I frowned. Emily was not easy to be intimidated, and it meant something really bad was happening.

"Look at the horizon!" – she cried.

I followed her stare and my heart sank to my feet – hugeman'o'war under the Royal Navy flag was coming out of the corner of that wall of rocks I had already thrown so many anxious looks at during the whole morning. It was not just huge – it was enormous. And it was heading for us.

"But…how the fuck can it be, I was watchin' and I…"

Only now I noticed how high the sun was in the sky – closing my eyes just for a moment I was standing deep in sleep for more than an hour. In the crow's nest there was no one to watch the horizon, this task lied on me only – and I fucked everything up.

"Shit" – I rushed onto the maindeck. Men had already noticed the giant ship coming too and now some of them were running preparing the guns and some of them were blinking with lost expression on their faces – they all were still under booze – some still hadn't come to senses from the night's party and some had already taken in some more alcohol to lighten the headache. Those freezed ones, the majority, looked at me at once and I couldn't recognize those brave and cocky men I had seen at night.

"Why the hell are ya all standin'?!" – I shouted but they didn't move as if paralyzed with fear – "Cut the ropes, fast! We must get out of here" – the same effect – "Move!" – I pulled out my swords and started cutting the ropes tying the _William _to the boarded ship to make men follow my example and some of them really shook their head and started helping me.

"Quick, quick you move!" – I was roaring hearing Anne doing the same and Emily helping her – "I swear when we're out of here I'll lash ya all to blood, fuckin' drunkards! _"One stop hasn't killed anyone yet"_ see now what a fuckin' smart captain you have, huh?! Move!"

Two ships parted – the planks between them fell down into the water with splashes.

"Miss Read, but the gunpowder barrels are still there"

And that was true but…that was coming in handy. I had an idea in my head.

"Leave it there. Now off ya all go set sails an' lift anchor, go!"

I looked back to see how much time we had and chocked with horror. The first man'o'war was about some two minutes before us and the second one – smaller but armed no worse - was peeping out of the rocks. We had no time. With vain hope I still believed we could run away even that my guts were trembling with cold telling me we couldn't.

In a staggering gait Jack finally appeared out of the captain's cabin and wrinkled with yawn – the noise must have woken him up. Fucking bastard. Finally I had someone to give vent to my indignation and fury out. I flew up to him faster than the bolt of lightning.

"See what one short stop turned inta?! I've told ya, Rackham, I've fuckin' told ya, dirty scum!"

"What? …Mary Read don't you speak t'your capt'n like this" – he said almost lazily. He still couldn't understand what was going on and was rubbing his eyes. It was obvious to see sleep hadn't helped him yet – he was still plastered.

"I will jos'-aaargh…" – I put the air into my lungs ready to scream my voice out at him and knock him out after that, but let it out noisily and pulled myself together instead. I couldn't waste time and there was more efficient way. I snatched at his shirt and dragged him to the portside from where one could observe an amazing view. His eyes went wide – "_this _what I'm talkin' 'bout" – I loosened grasp of him with a mighty push into which I had put all my fear and rage – "now move you pity arse an' help me fuckin' get your brig out of this shit!"

I didn't look if he obeyed me, I simply had no time. I ran towards the quarterdeck – the sails were all ready, the anchor was being lifted up – I should have taken the helm and lead _William _away. On my way across the deck I was slapping, patting and pushing everyone whom I could reach, making them move, making them work and making them forget what hangover is till the better times. On the stairs I dashed against Emily who seeing me busy on the main deck must have decided to take the helm whilst.

"Mary, what-…"

"Down into the captain's deck you go, lass" – I ordered and moved her aside to open the way up to the helm, but instead obeying, she followed me.

"Mary, I can fight, I won't leave you in this shit, I wanna help…"

I sharply turned to her so that our noses almost bumped.

"It's an order for fuck's sake, Miss Hudson! Now go!"

She had been piercing me with her stubborn look, not wanting to go, but I couldn't stand there with her the whole day. I left her there, on top of the stairs, and the helm was already in my hands. The anchor was lifted up and the full sails were already flapping in the wind. The ship was set in motion, moved forward and that's when the first shots thundered. The first man'o'war, the biggest one was closer than I could think of – her mortars boomed at us and cannonballs hit the main deck – several men were smashed into pieces of flesh at once and I cursed heaven and hell and leaned down. Never in my life had I been more terrified.

They were reloading, but for the time, they fired at us with chained cannonballs. They were close so that the damage was less than it could be if they fired from far away – the speed of cannonballs was no enough to break the masts. _William _gathered speed and we started running away from them.

"We won't make it, Kidd! We need to surrender!"

"Aye! There's no way!"

"Maybe they'd let us take the royal pardon, Kidd, why not?!"

This made an evil smirk break through my tension.

"Ah-ha, course. The will offer ya a cup of tea an' enquire what you're planning to do back in England, sure. An' hempen collar will be just a tiny enclosure to their benevolence"

For a moment it seemed to affect them…or maybe most of them just didn't know what the word "benevolence" means. One way or another but the combination "hempen collar" made my idea clear to their understanding. They stood silent, only exchanging uncertain glances with empty impressions until Ryan, a tall bulky guy – good at the whole, hard-working, having the respect of the other men but blunting from time to time - broke silence:

"We're too drunk t'fight, Kidd, just look at us"

With all these complains and shouts I was already feeling on the edge of frustration. I wanted one thing – that they would fuck off and follow orders whilst I'll be trying to make a proper back off and not let the ship sink. I ignored Ryan and appealed to the whole crew:

"Shut the fuck up, lasses!" – I shouted at them but it seemed they were too terrified to take the offence – "I've got a plan" – I added firmly and looked back estimating the needed distance.

"What kind of plan?" -

"A good one" – I answered too quiet for them to hear and called – "Mr. O'Brien!"

"Aye, ma'am?" – replied grey-haired Mr. O'Brien.

"Where's your rifle?"

"Right here"

"Can you shoot as perfect as always?"

"Course, ma'am, the skill cannot be drunk away"

"Hope so, we all rely on you, man. Take you rifle an' aim at that ship we've left"

"Aye, ma'am" – he jumped up the ladders onto the stern, put the rifle comfortably and clung his eye to the backsight – "what's next?"

I saw his hands shaking slightly and I didn't like the sight of that, but he was the best sniper on the ship and I could only hope his skill was really undrunkable.

"We've left the gunpowder barrels on the deck there, you see it?"

There was a pause during which he observed the area and finally he answered.

"Aye" – his hands stopped shaking, it seemed he got my plan and it focused him up. Love old sea dogs, even if they spend the whole time drinking they make it to do their job when they are needed. I shot a glance at the main deck. Aye, opposite to young and strong hulks who start to fuck everything up at first sights of danger. At least they were working...I could only hope they would stay the same if there be a fight.

"Mr. O'Brien, you got me?"

"Aye, need to shot at those darlings"

"Right you are, now wait for mah command"

The giant man'o'war was already close to the ship we've left behind…If only the other one was sailing closer to the first – then we could have make it out safe and the catastrophe could have been prevented.

But the smaller giant was sailing too far from the bigger and I couldn't wait any longer. It was approaching the lonely abandoned schooner…it had already covered half of her length…just a little bit…a tiny little bit.

"Fire" - I ordered and Mr. O'Brien pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew with a whistling, or so it seemed to me – it killed the distance between the _William _and the schooner, flew an inch above the bow and reached its destination with devil speed. The schooner blazed up, the crests of flame reared into the sky with a demonic roar and spread further to the man'o'war, devouring it's rigging and yards and people, reaching the stocks of their gunpowder – to ignite them, banging the giant ship up on fire. The thunder that followed excelled the first one in thousands and with panic hysterical cries of the men on board, it repeated itself in several smaller blows that turned the magnificent man'o'war into the state of wreck and sinking.

My own crew echoed with hurrays watching the hostile ship dying in sufferings, the men laughed, they couldn't believe the danger was past, but I wasn't sharing their jolliness – we still had another man'o'war on our tail.

Mr. O'Brien grinned – "not bad shot, eh?"

I shot him a smirk. The fire was stunning and it was a sight for my sore eyes.

Yet the battle wasn't over. And Anne realized it as much as I did.

"Hold yourself in hands! There's another one over there or have you freaking forgotten about that?!" – she shouted and ran up the stairs to join me on the quarterdeck. She was fully focused, the fire of fight sparkling in her eyes brighter than the fire swallowing the man'o'war up in the distance – "you're fine, Mary?" – she asked coming up.

"definitely had mah better days" – I answered with a grin.

_Maybe they wouldn't even trail us, maybe they would stop to pick the survivors up_, I was thinking. But they didn't. The smoke had lifted and it happened. They fired at us and our mainmast crashed.

"Fuck!"

All the hopes of happy salvation were long gone. Even if we were faster, now – with the broken mast – we had no chance to back off safe. What an ill luck had we that day? They could damage the hull, they could break down the stern, they could kill half of the crew and the other half could survive but…by some God's curse the cannonballs mostly fell upon the mainmast and now its pieces were leaning down against the foremast whilst the sails were flaccidly hanging over in rapes. We lost the speed, by four knots, no less.

"Where's Rackham?! Where the fuck is Calico Jack Rackham?!" – I roared and the men at once pushed him forward out of the crowd. Still staggering he ran up the quarterdeck and stopped near me holding his side and trying to catch his breath or maybe soothe the sickness of hangover down.

"Ah'm here…ah'm here, lass, what do we have?"

I snarled.

"The fuckin' broken mainmast, can't ya see it?! Where the hell have ya been all this time?!"

"I was…"

"barfing he was" – Anne finished for him and pieced her dear with killing glance.

I made a deep breath and decided to get my fair share of punches at Jack later.

"Fine…we should stay cool. Calico"

"Yes?"

"You're our captain and by protocol I must ask you for permission to board that beast" – I raised my voice and looked down at the crew – "did everyone hear me?!"

The crew exchanged shocked glances, maybe even more shocked than Jack's one, but I don't think there is a scale of shockness so I wouldn't affirm.

"no!" – one of them finally found the voice back – it was Ryan again - and I shot him a heavy stare.

"What d'you mean "no"?" – I barked and gestured around – "measure the damage, we won't make it to jos' escape. Fair fight is the only chance" – I finished and started turning the helm.

"No, miss Read, you have no right to do it!" – Jack shouted and tried to move me aside and take the helm himself. And that's when the fragile bubble of my patience burst. The men had just started moving, pulling their swords out, reaching for their pistols to load then – and here there was Jack to break this confidence the crew had in the authority of the ship. I saw this uncertainty appearing in their eyes as they looked at each other stopping their activity. They couldn't just surrender – my life and the life of my child depended on their unity – I knew if they pulled themselves together we'd get the upper hand and the man'o'war's crew would be defeated. We could have survived.

The only obstacle between me and our salvation was Jack splitting the crew apart.

The bubble burst and I pushed Jack hard so that he lost his balance and flew across the quarterdeck bumping his head on the bannister. The crew gasped, Anne pursed her lips. It was plain to see she had tough contradictions fighting in her, but she was smarter than Jack. She understood what was at stake and faced the cruel reality. She gave me a short nod and stepped aside to the quartermaster place.

I took the pistol out and aimed it at Jack setting the helm straight with the other hand – we were heading-on the man'o'war and I was glad those men who were by the cannons hadn't stopped their work to distract on our little argument - the cannons were ready to fire. Jack was sitting his arse on the deckfloor, still abashed but gradually he was getting his wits back.

"What the hell you're affording yourself, you're my quartermaster!" – he said shifting disturbed look from the gunpoint to me and back – "Anne, settle your friend's hash. NOW"

"No, Jack. Mary's right, I'm sorry but you'll be thankful later, when we're safe again"

The crew observed everything as if watching a theater play, but more dynamic according to their dropped jaws and shocked stairs. I realized I had to take the whole situation into my hands the sooner the better. I looked at Jack and said loudly so that everyone could hear me.

"Not your quartermaster, Jack. Not anymore" – I looked at the crew – "from now an' till the day we're back on Inagua I'm your captain, men! You've seen what captain Calico Jack Rackham really is! Thanks to him and your recklessness we got into this situation!" – I looked at the men by the mortars as we were coming closer to the enemy and dropped – "fire" – after what continued my speech – "Have I ever let you down?! Have my orders ever been unreasonable?!" – most of them still looked uncertain, several men who used to sail with me on the _Prancing_ had already headed off to prepare for the fight – "I need you help to send those British scums to hell and, you have my word, I'll lead you out of here alive, I swear!"

I stopped, breathing hardly, adrenalin was bubbling in my veins, I'm sure my eyes were wild, I didn't know what I would do if they refused and take Jack's side as the bunch of cowards. I think I would have slayed one of them just to show what I'd make to them if they won't follow my orders. At that moment I was capable of anything.

Fortunately I didn't have to. After exchanging glances, getting together and quietly deliberating with each other, Ryan stepped forward and his confident firm eyes flew upon me.

"Capt'n Read" – he slightly nodded with submission and I had my breath back.

"Ryan Silvertone, I name you the boatswain of the _William_, organize the crew" – I nodded back in the same air. We never had boatswains on this ship but now I needed Ryan's influence on the crew more than ever, he had to be my ally.

He sent me a smirk and called the men to prepare for the fight. Jack, even if he was shouting and protesting was ignored. Anne patted me on the shoulder.

"Good job Mary" – she sighed and went over to help Jack up and calm him down. I drew the pistol away from aiming at him and put it back into the holster. It was good we sorted this matter out.

And I had my hopes returned.

* * *

If only everything kept going that way…we would never appear in Port Royal, we'd never even know how it looks like. But…"but" is the key word.

We rammed the man'o'war once and got ourselves a hit back of their mortars. We then backed off and I was twisting the ship from side to side dodging the blows of the enemy and rewarding the sluggish vessel with endless "fire!'s" hoping to wear her up a bit before boarding. With each blow of our cannons several soldiers on the man'o'war died, those soldiers that could kill one of us later - we needed this to last as long as it was only possible.

Through some time I realized the "impossible" moment had come. The enemy suffered serious losses and the man'o'war looked bad, but our own ship still got several blows even that I had been doing my best to dodge away from them. I was afraid to lose two other masts – how would we escape the battlefield later? – if only on the man'o'war but she looked ready to lose her sails and I doubted that. I didn't want to waste time staying here more than it was necessary so I couldn't bear the thought of repairs.

Finally the men were throwing ropes to stick to the man'o'war and board it. I left the helm to one of the men and took position standing on the bannister and searching for the captain with my eyes. He was there, standing by the helm and I needed to kill him at first place. Then we got too close for me to see him again, the high portside of the man'o'war grew before my eyes. I was scared to shit someone would hit me hard and my babe would suffer but I got no other alternative. I ran down the stairs heading to the ship's middle to climb up the hostile ship and merge into the fight but suddenly one man passing me drew my attention. To be precise it was Emily, but with her hair tied and bandanna put turning her into Nathaniel. I sprinted over to her before she made her jump to climb and pull her off the banisters.

"What the heck are you doin', Emily?!" – I hissed and for a moment she flew speechless. She obviously didn't expect me to notice her.

"Mary, I…"

"Go back into the cabin, you hear me?!"

"But I wanna help!"

"You're seventeen years old lass with a babe. Get back before I knocked ya out and made ya. If something happens to ya Vane would scalp me. It's b'cause of me you got into this and I won't let you hurt. Off ya go"

"Mary, you have no right to treat me like a child, I'm a good fighter you know it, better than most men on this ship!"

"Fine" – I got tired of bandying words with her. I simply clasped her arm and forcely dragged her towards the cabin then pushed her in before she could get away, slammed the door and locked her up. At least about this I had no more worries about.

In a minute I was on the large deck of the man'o'war and half of crew was already there. They were drunk, most of them, but fighting skills of some were undrunkable just like Mr. O'Brien's shooting one, moreover they got the best motivation of all – they were fighting for survival and according to my experience this fact only tripled the strength. Ryan was leading the attack. I noted that the total number of men that the ship of this size should contain was reduced to half – my plan was working. I joined the fight – killed two soldiers at once appearing out of the blue behind them, then kept on clearing the way forward, towards the captain. The colors were still too saturate and it turned everything around into muddle so I plunged into the Vision. Once everything got the shades of grey only, with red figures fighting with golden, I felt better and merged into my natural element – killing. The fear was long forgotten – I knew if it stayed I'd certainly fuck everything up. Fear has always been the greatest enemy of all.

The fight went smooth and fine but then I noticed the captain flew over onto the _William _to fight my men there. I followed him and appeared on the maindeck of our ship. The bunch of soldier fenced my way to the bow where the bastard was fighting with someone and soon I saw it was Jack. He had the captain's tricorne and logically the captain decided to get rid of the main leader of the hostile ship, just as I did. I was fighting the enemy along with my men, but more and more were coming and I couldn't get away to approach the captain.

The battle went on and on, I was all in blood – thanks God not mine – and sweat and it was becoming harder and harder to resist the force. Something was definitely wrong and then I understood what. The battle shifted onto the _William_ and more and more soldiers were coming out of the man'o'war's hold - their number was horrific. Maybe it wouldn't seem so if they were already in the fight but imagine the whole tide of enemies jumping down from their ship and flying towards you with their swords bare. So, yes, it was horrific. But I had stood it. But the men hadn't.

With their eyes wild they rushed towards the hold, pulled the grating up and started escaping flowing into the hold in disorderly stream – kicking and pushing each other like wild animals. One of them writhed barfing and was killed at the spot by the soldier. I saw Ryan looking at this mess with a grimace of fury on his face.

"Fucking cowards, go back and fight wet pussies!" – he roared but no one looked back at him.

I blocked the blow of the bulky soldier who was attacking me, rewarded his friend's stomach with a deep scratch of my sword whilst was swaying right and his guts tumbled out the moment I stabbed the first one from the back. There was a lash lying some yards away and cutting two more lads by the ankles I reached it and snatched. Ryan was fighting with three soldiers at a time, his blond hair were red with blood excelling Anne's by intensity. I shouted him to back off to the stairs to hold the position on the quarterdeck where it would be easier to defend and he groaned something positive. More and more men were joining the escape into the hold and passing the grating I rewarded them with fierce lashes from the bottom of my heart. They fucked everything up and the hope was gone. But I couldn't give up as easy as this mob of delicate princesses.

"All of you dirty scums! All of you are nothin' but useless shit-makers!" – I roared defending myself with one hand and lashing them with the other – "Women are left to fight an' you are runnin' away like a bunch of suckers! I'll kill ya! All of ya!" – the sense in lashing disappeared as the last of them sneaked into the hold and the grating banged behind them, so I took the pistols and with edge of my eyes saw Anne doing the same. Not caring for the waste of charges we fired into the grating hoping our bullets would reach these bastards and kill each every one of them and accordingly to the screams downstairs some of them did. We fired and fired until all the four of our pistols for each needed reloading, but killing several soldiers and taking their pistols solved the problem. To sweeten the pot there were so many corpses around that one just needed to choose the pistols more attractive and take them.

But, no matter how delightful it was, we could continue it no more as soldiers were encompassing and pressing us, so that all of our attention was needed to defend. That very moment when we threw the guns aside Jack appeared and ran over to drag the grating up before anyone could hit him.

"Anne!" – he shouted and Anne distracted for a tiny moment to throw him uncomprehending stare – "Baby, come here, if we hide in the hold they won't touch us and then we'll figure something out on their way to the land"

Anne only groaned

"And you, Jack Rackham, you no better than tis slack dicks downstairs" – she shouted – "the fuck I thought you are better than them, what a full I am, huh?! If you go there now, consider everything between us is over!"

For a moment Calico freezed in hesitance, he was looking at Anne with plead until one of the soldiers attacked him. Jack dodged the blow and with a hit of his elbow sent the enemy overboard after what pulled the grating up again – "they won't dare to kill a woman anyway" – he said and the grating slammed behind him.

"Disgustful bastard!" Anne shouted loud enough for him to hear her even below the deck – "And I'm bearing your child for God's sake! Know I curse the day I let you take me and seduce my mind away with your cheap crap compliments and promises! I'll kill you if we ever meet again, Jack Rackham!"

Only four of us were left fighting on the deck – old Jim O'Brien, Ryan, Anne and I. We grouped at the top of the stairs where it was easy to hold the attackers off. Suddenly, behind the man I've just killed grew the man I wanted to tear apart from the very beginning – their captain – somehow he broke through the block of Ryan at the bottom of the stairs and now was coming for me. As he started to ascend up the stairs I started trying to find the blank place in his defense but I had to admit he was a good one. He reached the top stairs and made a mighty spurt forward aiming for my ankles and I stepped back - even that I could block his blow I had a better plan to imply and I needed him on the quarter deck for it.

"Hold the attack! I'll take care of this one!" – I shouted to my allies and fully focused on fighting with tall captain who had streaks of grey in his hair as his wig and hat were lost somewhere on his way here. Block-defense-attack-legs-defense-balance-attack-turn-block-down-up-defense-attack-…it seemed to last for eternity and both he and I were breathing with gasps and sweat was trickling down my face and sparkling under the sun in drops on his forehead. Apart from Ah Tabai I think this middle-aged man was the most serious opponent I've ever met. He hit my nose with a hilt but I dragged his sword away with my crossed cutlasses so that it wasn't too tought to break it. I kicked between his legs, it seemed he hadn't expected such a dirty trick but writhing in pain he still managed to block the blow and stood straight.

And then it happened.

With a fury of exhausted lions we kept fighting but as I was stepping back I stumbled over some body and lost balance. The blade cleaved the air an inch before my throat as I was falling down. I hit my head on something, hit it badly and saw the sparkles in my eyes. Only then I understood it was the bannister of the stern that I hit and gladly the focus came back in seconds and not later. Though…maybe it would have been better if it didn't because the scene I've seen is still haunting my dreams and so will it be till the day I die (which is probably happen in five or six month, so not really long).

The captain curled his lips in triumph. He shook his head to shed the sweat away and raised his sword. And jerked forward.

There was a shadow appearing from the right and soon I saw who was its owner. The blond hair tied with a green bandana. She fenced me in, protecting from the death blow, and I saw the blade peeping out of her back piercing her through.

"Emily!" – I heard a heartrending cry and understood it was my own.

The blade turned inside her and she hoarsely gasped as it left her body and she sunk down the deckfloor. Her murderer stood there, waiting for me to defense myself but I only crawled to Emily, carefully lifted her head up and leaned her against me propping her head with my forearm, as her suddenly white lips were quivering in torture of the pain that had been tearing her from inside.

"Mary" – she gasped and I felt my neck watered with something trickling down my face.

"Shhhh, Emily…haven't I ordered ya to keep away from the battle?" – I sobbed and the faint smile touched her lips.

"I hadn't accepted you as captain like a bunch of those idiots"

"Emily-…I-…how could I let it happen?"

"Shit happens, doesn't it?" – she said and her neck arched as the shiver went through her body.

"No Emily, it cannot happen, not with ya, you're too good to die"

"Mary" – she gasped barely audible and a thin red trickle drew a line from her mouth and down her face – "tell Charles I'm sorry…sorry it didn't work out as we planned…and sorry he won't see his child…I just-" – she chocked and her green eyes rolled with misery – "-so much I haven't told him…Mary?" – her eyes focused on me with a sudden tension – "tell him I love him…and I always will"

"I will" – I swore and tears were already freely falling down my face as the sharp pain was piercing my heart. I hadn't protected her and now this bright kind sincere girl was dying in my hands – "I swear you if I survive I will"

"You will" – she smiled and her body somewhat peacefully relaxed and her eyes were still shining with that everlasting happiness she always wondered me with – "It was a good life" – she said softly – "and it was an honor to know you captain Mary Read"

And she died.

The everlasting bright happiness dimmed in her eyes and her face went flaccid as the smile was still adorning her white lips. I couldn't see more, the watery shroud covered my eyes completely and sobs shook my body through. She was on this ship because of me and I didn't protect her. I didn't hold her off the danger. How could I?

The last thing I remember I raised my eyes and saw the captain with streaks of grey in his hair standing over us. His face was firm as he uttered:

"Very touching"

And the hilt of his sword knocked me out.


	9. Did loveless hearts built the world

**I'm sorry this chapter is Mary's too but in the next one, you have word, we'll return back to Edward, it's just was so a lot to tell from Mary's side and I couldn't leave her be till not telling everything I wanted. Prison time - crap. Hate it.  
Thank you all for your support again, it means a lot lot lot!**

* * *

9

Did loveless hearts build the world...

There are two important people sitting behind him. I saw it as I had finally torn my eyes away from staring into his eyes. He is sitting too far for me to see it, but I know the soothing blues of these eyes, I just wish I was closer to him to say those things that are ripping my heart at the moment.

He looks awful, his hair is down and dirty, tied only with a band - it is so strange to see it, he has never had dirty hair and it has always fancied me how zealously he watched for himself to wash his hair at once at the first sights of dirtiness. He has always neatly tied them up into a small tail allowing himself to have it messily down only in bed. And his face is haggard, tired rings round his eyes. How I missed him all these fucking time…

He never shifts his eyes off of me as well, his look flew from my face to my stomach and went back as he stared at me with his face expressing nothing but astonishment. Aye…fancy seeing you here, Kenway, as well. And then these important people drew his attention and he had to turn back.

One of them I recognize, his deep dark scar is seen even from the distance and there can be no mistake it is famous Woodes Rogers in flesh. The other man is old and Spanish, him I know for certain – governor Torres be he cursed. They tell Edward something and I see he doesn't like what he hears – it looks like they are threatening him but he only turns away from them with a slight devilish smirk, which I know interprets as "go to hell and fuck yourself there". The two Templars leave and our eyes lock again as the judge pronounces a sentence of hanging.

"…you, Mary Read and Ann Bonny are to go from hence to the place from whence you came and from thence to the place of execution…" – it makes me smile to see how Edward tried to stand and struggle hearing the last word, but what could he do. And the judge continues his, oversaturated with "ence"s, declaration – "…where you shall be severally hanged by the neck till you are severally dead, dead, dead"

What an idiot.

"Oh rot" – Anne rolls her eyes sharing my feelings but the idiot pays no attention.

"…May God in his infinite mercy be merciful to each of your souls…"

May God shut your gob up.

"We're pregnant!" – maybe we can even cope with it without God at all – "D'you all hear that?!"

My shout raised disturbance in the audience. Get that, fucking assholes, disappointed, heh?!

The judge, with all his pomposity, as disappointed as the audience itself, is forced to delay the execution until our terms are up. Anne is trying to crack it hardy with an outrageous joke provoking the noise and laughter in the crowd. The judge bangs the trial finished and the guards lead Anne and me inside the prison just behind Edward and his guards. He is constantly twisting his head back, but his guards are tougher than ours and they push him hard all the time. We are held only by one guard with the other following and I see the opportunity. I look at Anne and she nods she got my glance.

"Three…" – I start barely audible so that only Anne could hear me – "two…ONE"

In a sharp motion I extricate myself out of the guard's grip and my foot heavily lands on his and as Anne have done the same the guard loses focus for a moment and this is enough for me. Anne leaves behind to hold them off as long as she can and I rush forward to trip up one of Edward's guards, fetch the other's groin with my boot and win several private seconds with Kenway. I run over to him before they came to senses and curse the fetters that lock our hands behind. I want to touch him so much, to stoke his face one last time.

"Mary" – he gasps and his voice leaves me breathless, all we can do is join our foreheads for a moment and then my lips brush against his cheek.

"please, Edward, forgive me"

"Shhh…apologies are not needed, we're both idiots, how the hell you got to this place?!"

"no, you don't understand I lied to you, that night, it was all lie, I swear"

"What? What are you talking about?"

But the guards have already risen up and one of them pulled me back and gave me a smacking slap pushing Edward away from me with his other hand.

"Fucking bitch"

Edward growls, tries to break away and hit him but he is stopped by the other and pushed forward with double speed, so that they reach the door in seconds and the guard kicks Edward inside. I see him falling down the floor, but he rushes to turn back to the door before it is closed to say something.

"Mary-…!" – but his words are devoured with a slam of the door and all I can hear now is muffled shouts. Our guards wait for several minutes before continuing the way to our cells, they certainly don't want the incident to repeat.

Walking through the corridors of this dirty and cold prison I attentively observe every cell me pass searching for Edward with my eyes. We go down the stairs and there is a big hall with cells everywhere to see. There. Just in front of me – I spot the golden figure and put aside the Vision to see his condition better. The cell he is in is small and there is one more person in there. I can't believe my eyes, can't believe this man is here too and this man is no one but Charles Vane. The guilt stabs me as our eyes meet and my tongue as if stuck to the roof of my mouth and, feeling the guilt only intensified, I remain speechless. I wonder why Edward doesn't wait by the grating to see me leaded through their hall, but straining my eyes I see he's lying still on the heap of hay. His guards must have knocked him out for screaming too much. All I want now is all the cells to suddenly open up by some magic spell and all these guards to be raped, abused, tortured and finally slayed in misery by their former prisoners.

My face burns after the guard's slap, but I can still feel Edward's prickly stubble on my cheeks.

Maybe we will never see each other again. Maybe I felt it for the last time.

* * *

Later that day there came a women to examine out bodies and clarify if we really pregnant. Anne was the first and the woman even demanded her to undress her bottom so that she could examine there too. It was plain why – Anne's belly was still very small - but finally she admitted Miss Anny Bonny is really pregnant. When the guard opened my cell and let the woman in, he locked the grating behind her at once and stalked off. Strange decency for these dirty pigs. I tugged my shirt up and she nodded the same second, acknowledging my state without questions and held me out a rough homespun dress.

"I know it's worse and lighter than your own clothes, but they demand you to wear it" – she said.

"Why would you care?" – I snapped and the woman pursed her lips. I secluded myself in the corner of the cell to take off my beloved costume and for the last time run my finger over the posh velvet of the vest collar.

I swore I would take it back. I knew Ah Tabai will not leave me rot in here even if I hadn't been the best example of a devoted assassin lately.

The woman also left two blankets and at night I was truly happy there were really _two _blankets instead of one, because under one I would certainly wake up freezed to bones. Anne was set into the nearby cell and the first thing we did was searching if there were crumbling stones in the wall separating us, hoping to find just a tiny one to enlarge it and being able to talk without fear to be heard. But it was useless – the stone was thick and solid and we gave up.

The food the guards brought was tolerable and according to the new faces I saw I concluded it was night already. The watch was changed and instead of that rather decent man that was patrolling the area by our cells the new one appeared to be one of the dirtiest bastards I've ever seen and his partner was no better.

* * *

And that's how our imprisonment begun.

Days and nights I could only recognize according to the change of guards and if there was a decent one on duty with his indifferent mate it meant it was day, and if two rude yokels then it was night. I think we were the only women in this prison – if I knew something of prisons it was that if there be any other women they would be certainly put all together in one prison block. But there were none but Anne and me, literally none, and it must have really been the block for women only as all the other cells in this hall but ours were empty.

On the third day we had a guest – that captain with streaks of grey in his hair, who killed Emily and knocked me out that fatal morning when we lost everything. He sent the guards off to leave us in private and I felt cold in my guts. I was afraid of the reasons for this privacy, he could easily rape Anne and me both and no one would say anything against it. But I knew if he try I'd lead my deed till the end and kill him and If I didn't manage then I'd make him kill me this time. I better die than suffer such kind of disgrace.

But he surprised me.

"Miss Mary Read" – he said as soon as the guards were out of reach.

"Captain Mary Read" – I corrected him with a glare – "Fuck off you killer"

"We're all killers. How do you differ from me then?"

"You killed a woman. Seventeen years old girl, and she was with a child. There can be no redemption for that"

"If it pleases you I'm not proud for that"

"Or really? I'm sure it will turn her back alive, why not"

"I didn't know she was a woman, miss Read, she looked like a young lad"

"Even so, any young lad deserves the royal trial or is it not what you so passionately insist on in your endless justice?"

He didn't answer, calmly enduring my burning glare after what he said:

"Whatever you think of me is out of my concern. I came here to express my respect to the magnificent opponent I've been fighting with and to your combat skills I find remarkable not only for a woman but for men equally. The royal navy would have been invincible if our soldiers were as skillful as you, it's a pity we don't accept women into our midst, the plans your mind creates are highly sufficient – I had a chance to make certain in this when you smashed the pride of our fleet to pieces"

He stretched his hand out through the grating – "my sincere respect, Miss Read" – he stood waiting for me to shake his hand but I stayed sitting on the hay and he drew it back, but something landed onto the stony floor sparkling in the flashing lights of the torches with gold flickers: Edward's ring they had taken away from me – "I suppose this is yours" – the man said observing my face – "I consider it improper to take the last thing woman has from her husband left. I'm sorry to be the reason for your death, but the piracy cannot be pandered, Miss Read. All I can promise you is that due to your remarkable personality and your state equally the guards would treat you with due respect, I think you understand my incline" – he waited for my reaction but I showed nothing new but enduring his gaze, in my eyes he was the killer of Emily and nor his nice words nor his attitude couldn't change it.

He nodded as if conceding his defeat – "Well then goodbye, Miss Read. And know that the ends of your crew were hanged this morning, except for your former captain, Mr. Calico Jack Rackham, his sentence is passed on tomorrow. Wish you be delivered of a child lightly" – his fingers touched his hat and he stalked off – "Miss Bonny" – I heard his voice moving away, grasped the ring at once and tied it around my neck hiding under my clothes. In a minute his steps died away and we appeared completely alone. It was not clear when would the guards return and finally we had time to talk freely. And we had a lot to talk about…and to mourn of.

Mr. O'Brien and Ryan were dead - the best members of our once glorious crew.

* * *

Anne was taken to some place, she was told Calico Jack Rackham insisted on seeing her in the words of his last will. She returned back totally furious in her red face that promised to excel her hair in this color, but some time later I heard sobs from her cell.

No matter how insistently I tried to make her speak and tell me at least anything she didn't drop a word during the night and then on the next day of Jack's execution and I could only hear her crying in her cell. The "white watch" as we called them didn't tell anything, they were simply ignoring her, but as she heard the "black watch" coming to take the duty her sobs withered. It was better to keep quiet as mice when the guards of the black watch were watching us, we didn't know what they would do if we piss them off and we didn't want to explore this matter.

She finally broke the silence between us on the next day, when the white guards came and we could talk. The decent one was throwing his glances at us sauntering back and forth from wall to wall whilst his indifferent partner was sitting on the barrel at the beginning of the hall and carving something out the wooden bar.

"he was pleading for my forgiveness, Mary, imagine it…after all he's done to us, left us fighting alone…left _me _fighting and sneaked down into the hold himself" – I heard her sighing – "but there were tears in his eyes when he spoke of our child…he thought I'd be crying telling him my last goodbyes…what a jerk. And I told him "if you had fought like a man you'd not need to hang like a dog" and asked guards to take me back into my cell"

"M'proud of you, Annie" – I said wanting so bad to hug her at the moment and console her grief that was far greater than she wanted me to see it.

The poor end of Calico Jack Rackham, let his friends remember him as a funny guy and wash the memories of his treacherous soul away from their memory.

* * *

The time went by. It was running slowly in this fucking prison where the main activity was sleeping diversified with eating time, easying nature and blankly staring into the dark ceiling. The black guards became grumpier – they got tired of watching two pregnant lasses and longed for more dangerous work, but there was nothing they could do and they let their steam off on us having no other alternative. They only managed with swearing and shouting so far, but I was scared to shit they'd decide to rape us oneday. Hapily it wasn't happening and soon I thought I could stop worrying – my belly grew even bigger and Anne told me hers suddenly started gaining largeness too. Hardly these bastards would want to take two women with medium bumps when they could take any pretty whore at rather low price in the town.

The sickness stopped completely and probably it was the only bright ray piercing this everlasting darkness and coldness our lives plunged into. Instead of sickness I started feeling boring pains in the bottom of my stomach. I got scared first but after talking to Anne and finding out she had the same symptoms I relaxed.

It was the day, at any rate the guards were white when I woke up, when I first felt it – pushes inside me. It made me cry and the decent guard frowned, throwing look into my cell as he never heard cries from there, more accustomed to hear ones from Anne's place. I turned my back on him - with unusual emotionality I was drowning in tears as mixed feelings were running the show in my heart: I was excited with these pushes that were an evidence my boy is here, with me…but I knew too well we've got only several pathetic months with each other and then he'd be born, taken away from me, never to see me again, never to know who his parents are…never to know his remarkable father.

"I wish it was different, babe" – I sobbed – "I wish me and your farther made it out right an' instead of rottin' here in this horrible place we'd have been livin' in the beautiful white house on top of the hill and your father would be with us on this great day.

The thoughts of Edward would never leave me. I wondered if I'd ever see him again and, though realizing how silly it was, I still kept on praying before going to sleep according to my old oath, maybe it could help, I had to take all the chances.

And I was thinking of the brotherhood. I doubted Ah Tabai didn't know about me imprisoned. I doubted he would leave me here.

But where the fuck was he for so long?

* * *

I am lying habitually on the hay covered with two blankets and still feeling the cold trying to crawl through my defenses. I've just ate my lunch – the bowl of porridge of a kind I used to leave for dogs on Inagua – but it is better than nothing and there are no maggots inside and sometimes you can even find pieces of meat there. I'm talking with the babe as usual. Some time ago, it's hard to say how much hours passed, Anne and I were talking remembering back the happy times – even though bitter it helps to keep the morale up – but then Anne said she wanted to have a nap and I followed her example. As soon as I closed my eyes the scene of dying Emily started playing in my head and I decided it was better to stay awake.

From his first moves on, the babe begun stirring surprisingly often as if he liked this activity and wanted to keep entertaining – with each time I was founding it out brighter and brighter why pregnancy is considered a miracle state.

There is a tap and I sharply turn to face the cell door.

Between the grating, I see the figure and focusing my eyes I recognize the decent guard of the white's watch.

"Mary Read" – he hisses.

What the heck does he need from me? Or were we wrong about the black guards and these are the white wanting to rape us?

"What d'you want?" – I grumble from my "bed".

"Come over here" – he says, but not as an order…too soft to be an order. And I obey. There are not much events in my life lately and this one is the first to happen in months.

"Now what?"

"Be quiet" – he hushes confusing me even more. But I obey again and drop my voice to whisper:

"What?"

"Edward Kenway was asking about you" – he says with an honest gleam in his eyes. What a surprise. I even lose any words I had in stock – who the hell this man is and is he fucking mocking me right now?! - but soon my lips remember back how to form sounds:

"And why the hell you care?!"

"Huuuuush"

"M'sory" – I lower my voice – "but the question still stands"

"Don't you remember me?" – he says and I try to observe his face closely. Dark hair and greenish-blue eyes, strict features and the edges of his lips arched down. Handsome man, maybe I've seen him somewhere but I can't remember where no matter how hard I try. And his sees how puzzled I am.

"Barrington's island, remember?" – he makes a hint – "two lads, the only patrol in the mansion while all the others were fighting in the docks. You and your blond friend swooped upon me and my friend trying to know where one man was. Remember now? I'm the one you were interrogating"

"Aye!" – finally I recall this face, that time he had almost shitted his pants with fear – "Brian, huh?"

"Brien Mitchell" – he nods and pushes something through the cell door. It is the piece of paper and it falls before my knees. The decent guard, this Brian, leans down and shoves something else into the door – pen and inkpot – "hide it right now, my partner will come back in some five minutes. Write several words to Edward Kenway if you have anything to say. As far as I understood he's the farther of your child, Miss Read?" – but I say nothing, not even nod, it is strange and I can't trust the guard even that I've been interrogating him before. _Especially _if I've been interrogating him before.

"Why are you helpin' us?"

His face becomes emotionless as he straightens himself.

"I have the reasons of my own. And I think you must be happy at least with this explanation as far as I can help you"

Still I am looking at him with suspicions. Too weird it is for the place like this to find the enemy offering you his help.

But…how could a small note made my state any worse? Or Edward's? And this day is a special one, he should know it, I want him to know it. Well…beggars cannot be choosers. I feel the babe stirring, the feeling is that he has just kicked my kidneys, and I make up my mind.

I snatch my new belongings and put them beside the "bed" and the bumps of the hay protect them from anyone's notice. I am too afraid the opportunity will be lost to write a lot and thus I scribble a short message on the paper wondering if I receive any respond ever. I finish and reach for the ring hid behind the fabric of the dress's bodice finding the soothing smoothness of its warm surface. I halter before handing the letter in, just to reread it, but this mysterious Brian hushes at me to hurry up and I fold the note several times and give it to him. With a serious air he nods and hides it in the pocket of his uniform.

"Gratitude is attached I suppose" – he snorts lingering by my cell.

"Need to see the result before saying thank you"

"Of course"

We hear the sound of steps coming from the corridor on the left and I understand if I want to ask something I have my last seconds for it as the man starts stalking off:

"stop" – I snatch his sleeve at the last moment and he turns back with impenetrable stare – "how's he?"

"Alive" – decent Brian simply answers – "it looks like those two gentlemen – Torres and Woodes Rogers – are the only reason why he's still breathing. They came to him several times to interrogate but I suppose it wasn't of a much success" – he shifts his voice to whisper and shortly adds – "he has already pissed off his guards constantly asking about how Mary Read is anytime someone passes his cell. The tough guys they are there in the men's block so his annoying behavior costs him a lot" – he sharply draws back and I hear his partner finally coming over.

"Hey, Mitch. What are you doing? Charming the damsel in distress?" – he says sarcastically.

"The woman asked for water, I shall bring her some if you don't mind?"

"Course, don't think I won't cope with two pregnant lasses if something happens. Go, but don't be long"

"Of course"

Decent Brian heads into the corridor on the opposite side of the room, his mate throws me a shallow gaze and makes himself by the table going back to craving the wood and I see it has already taken a form of a small dolphin.

"You have a child, don't you?" – suddenly I feel a need to talk, I think it's because of what has just happened, it made my spirit elevated. I want to diversify this everyday hell of boredom and grief and this guy doesn't seem too bad.

He looks at me with long stare stopping his work for a moment, as if estimating is it better to ignore me or give the answer.

"I do" – he finally makes his mind. Must have decided I'm not in the right condition to threaten his family or be able to do it any time in the future at all – "two boys – five and three years – and daughter was born two weeks ago"

"mah congratulations"

"…hmph, thank you"

He returns to craving.

"what was it like?"

"what? for my wife to give birth?"

"Aye"

"I wasn't allowed to be with her, just as two previous times, but this one was easier, third child after all, took her less than half a day and it is considered rather fast"

"and d'you remember her first time?"

"sure. 18 hours of hell as she describes it, is it your first child?"

I nod and he gives a whistle.

"Huh, then be ready for the hell"

"Hell is already here"

He stops short and lifts his eyes on me maybe even with pity.

"Aye, but you have only yourself to blame for it" – he says and goes back to work with his whole sight showing the conversation is over. Anne is still sleeping and I leave the guard be, return to the hay to lie down there and try to catch some sleep too, hoping I won't see the same nightmare again. Lately in my dreams I started seeing the white house on top of the hill and I wished I'd go back there this time again. Closing my eyes I remember back the words I wrote in that note and they appear before my eyes as if imprinted in my mind. And I fall asleep.

"_Your son stirred today, for the first time. Wish you were here…_

_I miss you_

_P.S. know Charles is there with you. Emily died. _

_Mary"_


	10. only to tear it apart

**Hello, guys! I wouldn't lie these two chapters were a struggle and actually I could have written everything much faster, but I didn't want to fuck everything up as both chapters are probably the most important of the story. Sorry there can be mistakes, I just looked through it swiftly after finishing writing, but don't blame me, I just wanted to post it for you the faster the better. I was so happy to see Nothing You Can Spend achieved its 15.000 and probably this was the greatest push for me to start writing, it was hard to start to be honest. Thank you all for your support, you're precious for me =) **

* * *

10

…only to tear it apart.

"What did she mean by telling she lied to you that night?" – Vane asked as I had just coped to wake up from the knocked out blackness I had been in. I was sitting in front of him on the floor rubbing my head and feeling slick blood over the big lump swelled on the place on which the hilt of the guard's sword had landed several hours ago.

"I dare believe she meant the child isn't of Israel fucking Hands"

"he's yours then?"

"Aye, can bet everything I own on it"

"You own nothing right now"

"Right… but still I own manor on Inagua and the fleet, this they can't take away from me"

Charles chuckled making himself more comfortable leaning his back against the wall, having nothing to do he was chewing the cone he had found in his bed of hay heap. But the look he gave me transferring the mix of mocking and bitter boredom was still excelled with jocular sparkles. He sighed.

"both gonna be daddies, huh? …though knowing Read the shit I'd believe she'd lie 'bout that. The lass is straight as an arrow"

"You don't know her as well as I do. Try pissing her off too much and she'd take care you'll regret the words you've said, she'd just make you feel ten times wrecked than you could make her be and lie, which she hates, she still wouldn't disdain using just to smash you to pieces"

"This doesn't sound like Mary Read I know. Mary Read I know would just beat the shit out of you as far as I remember. I was a happy to test it once, remember?"

"Aye, this is her plan A, but how d'you think she'd have carried it out being pregnant? I should have guessed myself…maybe then she wouldn't have got in here"

"Now gonna busy yourself with self-torturing? Best thing to do here, Kenway" – Vane pushed my shoulder still scoffing but then his face became serious – "what about my Emily? Did she tell you something about her?"

I shook my head, his question irritated me. Mary's in prison, Anne is too, they are both pregnant, though if I felt pity and anger for captured Anne what I felt for Mary put into this horrible place was a longing to scalp every guard here alive for the unfair fate trailing us. The idea of her sitting in the small cold cell, fed with this disgusting food and God knows how treated by guards…the idea was unbearable. And here there was Vane asking about his precious Emily who must have been still peacefully living on Inagua knowing no troubles when Mary…

"You see we hadn't much time to have prolong small talks, fucking guards gave us minor seconds and all she could tell me was that she lied to me, I guess it was more important than saying "Emily is safe and sound, Edward, just for you to know"" – I snapped.

"Fuck you, Kenway, delicate jerk you are" – Vane snapped back glaring at me – "You know I'm freaking sorry for Read and Annie stuck in here just like you do, but I am, just like you do, more concerned about my own woman and, just like you, I miss my own woman who is, by the way, pregnant with my child as well" – he fell silent turning to the wall, but in a while he grumbled – "at least you know for sure where yours is whilst I know nothing at all of mine's state…and I don't feel well about it"

I looked at him feeling a stab of guilt. Charles was right and I understood it and still it wasn't enough for me to get used to everything and the fact that I knew where Mary is wasn't a proper silver lining I needed. Still I took a deep breath shifting my eyes on guards on the other side of the grating and counted from zero to ten in my head to suppress the rage. Then I looked at Vane again and reluctantly uttered:

"I am sorry"

"Or really? Must have been hard to tell it? Good of you, princess, want some prize for that?"

"Shut up"

"And this is no longer that polite, sweet thing"

"SHUT-UP-VANE"

Anger flashed in his eyes as he glared at me once more and he swiftly raised his clenched fist.

"Start to annoy me, Kenway"

I raised my hand and blocked his blow – weak though, not to fight seriously but let the steam off a bit.

"Fine, Charles, I'm chilled down, don't do this again they might decide to separate us"

"I know but we're both in shit, Kenway, no need to compare whose shit is deeper and stinkier"

"phhhh" – I sighed – "I know, but It just makes me so fucking frustrated sitting here and not being able to do something"

Vane gave me an odd look, then threw a glance into the hall, but guards seemed too busy playing dices to overhear us and when his eyes shifted back on me he grinned a dangerous smile.

"Then it's time to start doing something"

* * *

Plans are plans. And reality is reality. Charles and I planned to run away, but each time (yes, there were a lot) reality crushed our hopes into pieces and we had to brew a brand new plan until a bright idea visited the minds of our guards and they decided the percentage of our attempts would decrease if they separate us. This idea was bright indeed. Shame to admit it but without my companion in misfortune my heat died away significantly. How many times did me try to run away? …four…five…six. Definitely six. Or even seven. And each time our tries were coming more and more desperate and trivial and we, ourselves, realized they won't lead us into freedom but still – we just couldn't give up. Charles longed to come back to his Emily and I…

…Mary was somewhere there…in the prison block a corridor from ours, I got it from the guards' conversation while they were discussing how and how often would they insert their cocks into two pirate-whores if they had such opportunity. Gladly they didn't. I don't know how it was possible but – I heard it from their conversation too, our nice guards are quite blabbing – but one of the navy big-heads forbade even to touch the women and threatened guards to stay away on pain of death.

She was so close, yet so far. Days formed months – our child must have grown into a prominent bump and this thought was driving me insane. I put aside the idea of running away, without an ally from outside it was impossible. I tried asking guards of Mary Read – how's she? Is she fine? Does she feel good? But I reckon a cat would have been more sympathetic, the guards ignored me or shouted to shut up, not to say rewarded with a punch or two, but I got used to it. There was nothing new or strange in that. The world is a dark place and it is filled with cruel people, who excel good ones significantly by number. One phrase I couldn't kick out of my head and it was swirling there, sneaking into every flow of thoughts I tried to reflect: my mum once said _"did loveless hearts built the world only to tear it apart?"._ I didn't understand her that time, not fully at least. The world looked a nice place for me and I couldn't imagine any horrible thing that…yes that _would_ happen to me during my life as a feedback of the world that surely wanted to prove the words of my mother couldn't be fairer. The truth is – every little joy, every little thing you find important, every person you care about – the world would snatch it away from your grasp and push you into the darkness.

* * *

I guess I would have been already dead, drooping down the gibbet, if only they had a body of a crime against me, but they had none nor against me, nor against Charles. My happy ticket for salvation was embodied into highly distinguished Laureano Torres and Woodes Rogers – if only I told them the location of the Observatory I would be out of the place in a blink of an eye. And they never stopped reminding me of that. Their enjoyable visits became the usual routine for me. Oh, how I enjoyed them – the guard would open the door of my cell, lock my arms behind my back and kick me outside – these were omens the very important personas summoned me to another sweetest interrogation. So sweet that the bruises after each would not let me forget them soon.

God knows how – maybe the guards informed them or whatever – but they found out I annoyed everyone with one and the same matter. The matter of Mary Read.

"The location of the Observatory, Mr. Kenway" – said Torres who in the interrogation was always the kind guy, while Rogers played the role of the bad one – "tell us or lead us to the place and we'd drop charges off Miss Read, she'll be free and safe, you have my word. She'd be even allowed to keep the child"

This has almost made me crack. I opened my mouth, but before a word slipped my lips we were disturbed by the guard breaking in and informing of some commotion in the city. They weren't going to leave at once, in fact Torres just listened everything through and gave his orders, but this gave me the time to sort their offer out logically. I would tell them anything for the sake of Mary's life and the life of our child, I would not give a shit to the war between the assassins and Templars - no matter how important it is, it would never become as important for me as her life is. I would tell them anything they want to hear from me but… I realized it - even if I promise to reveal the Observatory's location and insist on leading them to the place myself just after proving me they kept their part of the bargain and freed her – I knew they'd get rid both of me, both of her just after reaching the place. I wasn't a fool to believe their benevolence.

It wasn't a surprise for me, to be honest, it didn't even come to my head and still – the prison made me older. It felt I lived through twenty years during these long months of waiting. Waiting for nothing but death. Of me. Of her. Of us. Of everything.

* * *

I feel I'd never become that Edward Kenway I used to be before the prison. I feel I'd never manage to treat the world with endless humor and ingenuousness ever again.

I feel it with a distinctness of a man who once was blind, but whose sight is now recovered – I feel it holding a note in my shaking hands and the words from it echo in my mind over and over again when the letters I cannot see already, everything's blurred.

"_Your son stirred today, for the first time. Wish you were here…_

_I miss you_

_P.S. I know Charles is there with you. Emily died._

_Mary"_

I draw my hand to my eyes and press the bridge of the nose trying to tame the storm of feelings swirling inside, but it isn't working.

I'm a father. I'll be a father.

To know it before this note was one thing, but to get this from Mary…my son…_my son_…these words seem so strange, so new and so oddly strange. Think I'm a milksop, think men don't cry even when it feels like hell, but this short note made me gasp with sobs and sharply lean my back against the wall in attempt to stop the shiver. The note is still in my hand and I read it again, touch the letters, yank my head up and noisily breath out, rub my eyes, read it again and start sauntering back and forth in the small space of my cell.

I could never imagine myself a father. Phah…why concealing this? I can't imagine myself a father even now. All my life I've been running for pleasures, plucking them like flowers and continuing my race for the new ones. But now that part of my life is over. This "wonderful" place managed to do in several months what Mary was trying to accomplish for years – to make a better man out of me. Maybe it wasn't even the prison, maybe the whole time my eyes were veiled by the Observatory but Roberts made his bests to help me finally see everything clearly.

_Should I thank him for it?_

I smile bitterly. The smile is insane I can feel it. Close to hysterical.

Anyway, I see now - games are over, time to face the reality, time to stop being a blind obsessed self-centered bastard. Enough. I've caught it at last.

I've got a reason to change now – my family: Mary and our child. No matter if it is a girl or a boy as Mary thinks. I've got to be better for them, she was right. She was always right.

_But how can I if we are both locked in the prison with an inevitable outcome of hanging? _

I growl and punch the wall with my fists.

"I've tried to find a way to escape, I tried Mary, I don't know how, I simply don't know, love" – I snort and keep punching the wall. Maybe it would help to soothe the pain. If only it could help…"I don't know, Mary, I don't know, don't know, don't know!" – my fists are all in blood and finally I sink down the wall and with last strength breath out – "…I don't know…"

The pain of my body made the inner torture a little bit fainter and breathing heavily sitting on the floor I try to focus and figure out a sneaking way out of this prison. There has to be a way. There's always a way out, I just need to think harder, be smarter, be better.

What month is it? …it must be the end of January or so…or beginning. It must be January anyways. Where the fuck is Mary's "wonderful" brotherhood, where's the fucking wiseman Ah Tabai with his lectures?! Why have they left her die here?! How's that possible?! He has so many people at hand, why's his still not here to smash this place apart and get their sister out of here?! He can leave me rot in here in the capacity of his vengeance, of his hate towards me, but he must save her. Her and our child. And I'd manage to make it out on my own…somehow.

I take a deep breath trying to calm down.

Aye, this is it. Mary used to tell me not once Ah Tabai has always been like father to her – he would not leave her in this place. And Stefano is there too – he would not let Ah Tabai leave her in this place. It means I have to pull myself together and wait. For what? ... For guards to ring alarms the prisoners have escaped, that's it.

Finally I feel my heart beat going back to normal and breath taken back.

And still…

I'm going to be a father. And she admits she misses me. She loves me for sure, there could be no fake in her eyes when I saw her last time on the day of her trial. My grumpy sharp-tongued Mary Read finally admits her love for me.

…And I'm going to be a father…

Only then I remember the ending of the note, those words following the "P.S.". I sigh, feeling a tight knot of mourning in my chest and tear the note up in half. Hide my part under the hay and come over to the grating. My cell and Charles' form the corner of the hall, I hiss trying to draw his attention without drawing the guards' and see him lifting his head up from the hay he has been sleeping on.

"mmm? What, Kenway? I'm trying to sleep" – he grunts but crawls over to the grating. Throwing a worried look on guards I confirm they won't notice and stretch his part of the note towards him.

"Some strange guard…" – I hiss quietly but I see Charles hears me well – "he said he's a friend, threw me a note from Mary and left" – I halter as Vane reaches his hand out for the note frowning – "there are words for you there…" – he takes the note, rubs the ends of sleep out of his eyes and unfolds it – "I'm sorry, mate" – I say as he starts to read the note.

There's a moment he's sitting still. Without a muscle moved, he just keeps staring into the note as if not believing it. Thunderstruck he lifts his hands up to his face as the tiny note slips his fingers and he just sits like this – covering his eyes with his hands but not shaking, not crying, not screaming.

I know too well what he feels at the moment. I know the time for screams and cries and sobs will be later. I know the harder the blow the longer the numbness…the shallowness inside.

Promising the greater storm after.

* * *

January 23, 1720

"_Mary,_

_Your note left me breathless, just a little bit and you would have been responsible for my mental break. Don't you feel ashamed for that? I think if I could reach you I'd hug you so tight that your ribs would crunch. I know there'd be a certain third between us, but don't worry, I'd just hug you from behind. See? I'm not self-centered any longer. _

_If be serious…_

_Please, forgive me but I see things as they really are only now. I know it's a little bit late. I know you'd snort at the words "a little bit" but still. I swear when we get out of here I'd fix everything and you'll see a new man in front of you. _

_Don't think I take it all not seriously, I just want to make you smile._

_How are you feeling? Are you fed well? Do you have normal blankets? How's Anne? _

_How the hell you've got into this mess?! I swear when we're out of here I'd lock you in one room for the whole week as a punishment for putting yourself and our child in danger! (Don't worry the food will be supplied, no starving). And I say __"when"__ because assure you I'll take you out of here – both your and Anne. _

_The strange guard here said he won't be able to hand notes over every week or even couple of weeks so he recommended me to write real letters, not pathetic scratches of words. That's what he told "pathetic scratches of words". He's strange, isn't he? Why is he helping us at all?! I'm not complaining though, but still it is strange that the __guard__ helps us. I know you're good at making people trust you and then becoming friends with them but…isn't it too much, Mary? Are you some kind of __witch__ or __fairy__? Tell me your secret. _

_Okay, okay, that sounded pathetic, let's cross that. It's just I wonder because I heard some navy captain with high ranks in here told all the guards he'd skin them alive if they touch a hair of your head not to say doing more. And then there's this strange guard throwing a note into my cell and on the next night coming to change one of our guards (to say he never did this before and I haven't even seen him here), just to approach me secretly and give some sheets of paper and writing utensils. I'm writing this letter as he's guarding my cell and, I must admit, I've never felt such an affection towards men's back like a feel now – thanks to his back I can write comfortably without hiding the process away and being afraid of hearing "GOTCHA". _

_Now to sad. _

_Vane is out of his mind. Emily's death knocked him hard and I understand him. I guess I'd feel the same if anything like this happened to you. Okay. Let's not talk about that. It will be different for us. Definitely. We'd make it out of here, return on Inagua and there we'd be raising our son (by the way, why are you so sure it is son?). We'll settle down. I hope you share my opinion on this. _

_Shit. He hurries me up, I have to wind up. _

_So…I know you don't like when I say this phrase but… those three words – know I imply them. _

_Sleep a lot, eat well and don't even think of losing your spirit. I know your brotherhood is planning to get you out of here and I'd be struggling my brain to figure out a way to save you too. _

_My love to our little Kenway _

_Edward" _

* * *

February 03, 1720

"_Edward, _

_The guard's name is Brian, I met him before, it was on that Barrington's island, remember? I don't think you remember much about that place, maybe only of the vault you spent most of the time in, being interrogated by Barrington senior. You were beaten fiercely, remember now? So. Remember I told you about two lads who showed me and…Emily…where you were kept – well one of them was this Brian. He doesn't tell me why he's helping us, said only that he has the reasons of his own, but I bet soon we'll find everything out, I don't think he'd be helping us just out of kindness, I'm pretty sure he'll ask us for the favor soon and as we are not able to provide any favor being stuck in here, I'm sure it implies he'd do something to help us run away. I hope so. You can't even imagine how hard I want kiwi at the moment…I'd sell my soul for a couple of them, don't you have some mislaid somewhere?! Or maybe you know how to summon demons? This child likes kiwis, not I, I hate them, they are too sour. But I need kiwis. To distraction. _

_Decent Brian said maybe this letter would be delivered to you only in several weeks, I wish it was different. _

_The food is disgusting, but I got used to it, at least there are no maggots inside and sometimes there can be meat found. I have two blankets but still it is cold, but don't worry, not freezing, it is good. The worst is this boredom, I hate these walls, I hate this grating, I hate this heap of hay that I have to call bed. And I hate the thought I maybe won't see you again and our child would be taken away and will never know his parents. _

_I'm trying to crack it hardy but these thoughts just won't leave my head and…shit…you can't even imagine how emotional I became. I was always known as a person able to keep emotions under control and I was proud of that, but now…even writing these lines I'm crying like a little babe. Shit. And now there are stains left. I just hope I want fall in your opinion after the following but I just can't keep it inside - all I want right now is to nestle into your shoulder and cry my heart out until there are no tears left at all. I just want to get out of here, want to return on Inagua, settle down in the beautiful white house on top of the hill, your plan sounds appealing. _

_And…I wanted to say at first place but…anyway, I'll just say it: I don't want you to feel obliged because of this child, if you don't want to take an active role in his life I won't be forcing you. Well, now that I've said that… I have to confess I never stopped loving you and I'd be very disappointed if you decide to leave us. To say more – I would find you and kill you._

_Anne feels okay, she's depressed after Rackham's death, but starts to get over it. _

_The babe sends you hi, he's wriggling a lot, especially when I think about you. I've read him your letter aloud (well, in whisper) and he seemed to like it (or maybe he just likes the sound of my voice). _

_That captain was just impressed with my fighting skills and showed some respect, but it was he to kill Emily and I…I won't write about that. _

_I don't know where the hell Ah Tabai is. _

_Sorry, Brian hisses he won't be able to deliver the whole damn poem so I have to wind up. He also said we should decrease the volume of our letters and manage into a single sheet._

_P.S. Tell me about Torres and Rogers._

_P.P.S. don't ask me about why I lied you about the babe, let's forget that episode at all. _

_P.P.P.S. If you have some plan, please hurry up, I'm growing very big and awkward – protection will be on your shoulders only. _

_Mary_

_For Charles_

_Vane, mate, I'm really sorry to tell you this and know I'm feeling guilty as I'm the only one to blame for Emily's death. She was waiting for you ardently, couldn't shift her eyes off horizon. I just wanted to distract her, I told her into taking one last time asea, Jack promised us a great, but easy booty, despite I told him I'm no longer sailing he pleaded for it to be the last time and I agreed. And Anne too. And Emily. That's how we all appeared on the ship when the navy attacked. Believe me, I tried to keep her away from the battle, I locked her in the captain's cabin…but she has always been a smart one, hasn't she? She opened it somehow and she came to help me when I needed it the most. The captain of the man'o'war almost defeated me, I know he'd never drop his sword on me, but Emily had a different thought. She was in her Nath's disguise and the captain thought it was a lad attacking him and he…he killed her Charles…She shielded me from him and I watched her dying in my hands…I'm so sorry..._

_She asked me to tell you she's sorry it didn't work out as you two planned and that she's sorry you won't see your child…and she said she loves you. And that she always will. _

_I'm sorry" _

* * *

February 25, 1720

"_Mary,_

_Damn, lass, you just amaze me! The whole letter I dedicated to expressing my feelings, telling how much I love you and our unborn child and here you start your letter from discussing decent Brian and where you've met. I'm not complaining for the rest of the letter though…you've finally said you love me, be sure, the knowing of this warms me up in this fucking damp place…but you could have started from this at first place. _

_I'm sorry but I'm gonna swear right now and don't read it aloud – The fuck how could you even think I'm planning to leave you and not be the part of our child's life?! I'm maybe not prepared for this and this freaks me out, but, to be honest, I don't think anyone can be fully ready for it beforehand, but I do believe everyone has it inside, you know, parental instincts. What I'm trying to say is - are we worse than everyone? We'll work it out, won't we?_

_We'll talk about your lie later, when we're safe and would be able to throw something into each other and then end the argument up in our bed on Inagua while our child would be safely sleeping in their cradle in the next-door room. You won't get away from this, don't even try. _

_I've tried to make the guard talk when he brought me your letter but he said nothing and punched me. Slightly, not really hard, maybe just to keep up to the story before the others. _

_As for Torres and Rogers:_

_I've just had an appointment with them. They come once in two weeks, trying to torture the location of the Observatory out from me and – AYE! – by the way I haven't told you! I found the Observatory, I've been there, can you imagine, Mary?! I'm dying to tell you what I've seen there, but I can't, afraid these letters can be looked through by someone, not really trust your decent Brian. _

_And don't be stupid, I've told you thousands times – you can be vulnerable with me of all people. And falling in my opinion is impossible for you. Nestling into my shoulder sounds good, I'm all for, let's try it when we're out of here? _

_Shit…the sheet ends I have to wind up now. _

_In brief: Vane has lost his mind, this time completely. He's in the cell next to mine - you can't imagine how awful it is to be sitting and watching your friend gradually disappearing behind madness…_

_And you still haven't told me why you think it's a boy._

_I love you, Mary Read_

_Edward_

_P.S. I love kiwi, maybe this is the point. And, aye, you're right, I have a kiwi plantation here in my cell, sorry but they are all green (not ready I mean). _

_P.P.S. Damn it, but your decent Brian came for the respond almost a month after I had written it"_

* * *

March 17, 1720

_"Edward, _

_I know it pisses off but we have to be content at least with what we have. We can communicate, once a month yes, but we can. It is a luxury, don't forget about that. _

_I've heard it is tenth of March today, then I'm writing this letter on your birthday – happy birthday!_

_Back to business._

_It becomes unbelievable to move, my back is aching so much and when I try to stand I wish only one thing – to lie again. I know it sounds a lot like complaining but once I you've said it's impossible for me to fall in your opinion then stand it, I want you to feel what I feel, it's your child too for God's sake. _

_Of course I don't know for sure if it is a girl or a boy, but I wish it was a boy, you know why. If it is a girl what fate does she have? She will be smart like I am and beautiful like you are – not a good combination for a woman, it means she will always be underestimated and disparaged, I know it better than anyone else. Additional to her troubles due to brain thanks to her beauty she will always be under danger of raping. I don't want this. But I can be calm for the future of our boy, with such a combination he's doomed for success, his life would be easier than hers. _

_IF__ we get away from here…with every day I believe in this less and less. _

_Sorry…I shouldn't think this way. Better continue complaining._

_Your child is unbelievable, he doesn't let me sleep, wriggles all the time and decides it's a nice time to fall asleep only when I lose the ends of mine and lean the wall to sit up. It seems it's his little vengeance I haven't found him kiwi. I told him it's his father fault – he has the whole plantation in his cell and simply too greedy to share - but it didn't help._

_Decent Brian raised my spirit. He said I should tell you, you have to be ready for action anytime soon. It seems he's brewing some plan. Please, don't fuck things up, I'll be so grateful._

_Need to end the letter. Take care, Kenway. I seal this letter with a kiss. I know my lips in blood have always turned you on. …though doubt the sight of me right now can turn anyone on. _

_Mary"_

* * *

April 05, 1720

"_Mary,_

_My thoughts are all with you, I wish I could make it easier for you, but I can't and it's killing me. As days go by I feel unable to keep still as if I have ants in my pants. How long is it left? Just one month? I can't believe it. Still can't. I wish I could smash the grating out whilst no one can see it and run over to you. _

_And I wish you'd manage to understand my drank lines, my hands are shaking something badly._

_I don't mind who will It be – boy or girl – I will be happy in both cases, and you're not right about the girl. If she be like you she'd get over every trouble on her way and I'll be her shield as long as it's possible, she'll never be alone. We'll be with her – you and me, together. _

_I'm ready for anything, to be honest I can't wait already, why is he lagging?! _

_I got it, it was my last meeting with Torres and Rogers today, or next one will be the last. They already fail to believe I'd crack, but hesitate to get rid of me and the only thing they can is to keep me here. But I bet soon authorities would finally figure out the body of a crime for me so I could be legally hanged. Sorry to tell you this, sorry for being a sad shit and not joking this time but I can't summon up courage any longer._

_Where's your brotherhood?! When will this decent Brian finally start acting?! _

_Just a month left…_

_Your lips in blood are just what is needed right now but I wish it wasn't a stain on the paper, wish I could really feel them._

_Yours faithfully _

_Edward" _

* * *

April 25, 1720

"_Edward,_

_I'm sorry if what I tell you in this letter is not what you want to hear but…can't pretend brave any longer…_

_I feel this is my last letter. I feel the babe is going to be born sooner that you think. We don't have a month, honestly I don't even think we have a week. _

_I know I'm right and this feeling is truthful, I felt the same that morning on the ship, several hours before the two man'o'wars appeared, I sense it and it makes me…I can't even find words. I'm scared, Edward, so scared. _

_The night's guards told me after giving birth I will only have a week and then I'll be hanged. _

_I don't know where the hell Ah Tabai is, I don't know what the hell this Brian is waiting for, fucking hell I know nothing and I'm scared to shit._

_Just…know that if something happens to me I want you to find a way out of here and save yourself. I don't want my death to break you and I want you to let go it in time and find your way to be happy. It means you will have to find our child and bring him up the way I'd be proud to see. And I want you to find him a mother. Even thinking of it makes me jealous but…I want our child to have a full family and I don't want you to suffer till the end of your days. Live a long life, filled with bright and happy moments and know I will always be with you two. _

_To say I'm proud with who you've become is to say nothing. I remember meeting you for the first time – cocky stupid pirate with constant vulgar lines and lewd glances towards every skirt passing – and still you blew me away when I saw how you talked to your crew, how inspiring you were for them and how bright your eyes sparkled with enthusiastic ideas of something grand. _

_And just look at yourself now. _

_If I am the one responsible for these amazing changes then my life wasn't lived in vain._

_Sorry for every pain I've ever brought you I just never thought we'll end up like this. _

_I no longer believe someone will come to save us. _

_I love you, Edward Kenway_

_your Mary_

_P.S. If the girl will be born I want you to name her Emily and raise her as a fighter, if you make her a silly namby-pamby miss I promise I'd get to you from the dead with holly vengeance. And I want her to be part of the creed. If it will be a boy then I'm calm about his future."_

* * *

**This is not over, next chapter is ready, just keep reading, next one is a bomb!  
P.S. I hope you liked the idea of message by message, it was easier to keep the narration from both of them and also keep you informed about how they both felt about everything. **


	11. To suffer without dying

**Hold a wish to punch me for what I've wrote, pleeeease. Just for a bit, you'll see how everything'd turn out then. I tried to make this chapter as much profound as I only could, I hope I've made it well. So...hope you enjoy it (or better say there'd be tears).**

**HevaBeanXD, have you got a football team size box of tissues already? ;)**

**P.S. Still sorry for errors you may meet, I hurried up to update, I'll get rid of them later. **

* * *

11

To suffer without dying

It happened at the break of dawn or so it must have been according to the change of guards and breakfast brought into every cell. Mine stayed there, by the wall to where I kicked the bowl at the first screams I've heard from the corridor leading to the women block. Mary was right with her expectations.

My heart sank and for a moment everything went black in front of my eyes and I thought I'd lose consciousness, but I clenched my fists around the metal grating and forced myself to pull together. Decent Brian passed my cell in a hurry.

"The plan is delayed" – he threw me and vanished in the corridor direction. I cursed obscenities to myself. We were just going to put up a plan of running away into motion this night and this guy had ideas of how to run away unnoticed but now all hopes were gone. Why couldn't the baby wait for just a couple of days more?!

Decent Brian disappeared behind the corner and soon two women crossed our block to join him there. I knew it wasn't Anne to give birth. I knew it was Mary, I heard her scream and it was tearing me apart I couldn't be there to hold her hand, to show her she's not alone in this. Yes, my head started spinning just at the thought of childbirth, not to say taking part in it, but as I've told before I changed a lot. And now I realized there was something more important than I, than my wishes and fears.

I still felt dizzy, my head was still spinning as I waited. I couldn't sit still and was dashing around the cell like a tiger in the cage and my thoughts were all feverish. For some time it was as silent as in the grave and I wondered what was going on and how was Mary getting on. Why was she so silent? Aren't women supposed to scream giving birth? I imagined the whole process in theory and it must have been damn painful. I heard my mum giving birth after all, she was screaming like hell even though it was her second child.

…but maybe that's why everything ended up so bad? Maybe her loud screams were the omens of troubles, maybe they predicted her death following after? I shook my head. This _not _going to happen with Mary, no way.

And then I heard her screams. And shuddered. They were so loud that easily surmounted all the gap from the women block then through the corridor and reached my cell. Stony walls only amplified them creating resonant echo. I buried my head in my hands and sunk to the floor.

I don't how long did it last. It seemed like forever for me, like it wasn't going to end. The guards watching our hall at daylight were cracking bawdy jokes but I tried not to pay attention and abstract away from them.

How much time had already passed? Four hours? Six? Eight?

Vane was mumbling something inarticulate, he had lost his mind long months ago and I couldn't share my panic thoughts with him to calm down a bit. It would have been more successful to share them with one of the rats, still they had more chances to understand my words than my poor friend. But I tried.

"Charles, I can't take it anymore, I can't listen to her screams, I'm growing mad, let's talk, let's distract, please"

He looked at me getting silent for a moment, then wrapped his hands around his knees and started swaying back and forth shifting his eyes into nowhere and starting hemming some odd song to his nose. I yanked my head back and covered my eyes, but I couldn't sleep. How the hell could I?

It finally ended when the day's guards switched for the night's. Her screams were becoming fainter and fainter until they died away completely and I heard a new, significantly different one. And I knew our child was born. His screams filled every corner of this damn place and what strong lungs did he had, it amazed me. It wasn't like those weak whines my newborn sister used to give until she died following my mother into the grave. These screams were strong and healthy…and so loud.

For a moment they withered and I wondered why, it made me keep dashing back and forth, until they resumed and then I heard them drawing nearer, approaching our hall along the corridor. The baby calmed down but the silence had no fate to last long and I heard Mary's strained voice:

"Please, don't carry her away I beg you, please! Let me keep her for jos' a night! What people you are?! Can't you show some sympathy, don't take her away! I beg you!"

Her scream broke to a desperate cry and I felt agony inside I couldn't do anything and it seemed the metal of grating would crumble under my finger so tight I was pressing it. But then for a moment Mary's cries abated in my ears as if suddenly someone built up a stony wall in the corridor and this all happened because of the decent Brian passing my cell. In his hands he was holding a small bundle of folded sheets. The women who followed him started weakly protesting why he decided to halter here and the guards of our hall grumbled something negative, but I didn't hear them.

"It's a girl" – Brian said.

Carefully he moved aside the edge of the sheet and her wrinkled face opened before me. She was still a bit too pink and it was hard to say whom she takes after. She opened her eyes and I lost my breath – they were bright blue just as mine and she was watching me back. I couldn't get enough of looking at her and I tried to devour every detail, from the mop of dark hair to the tiny fingers lazily catching on the sheet. They say newborns are ugly, maybe this is true, but looking at her that moment I was thinking this way at all. She was beautiful for me, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

But this couldn't last long.

Brian threw me a look, shifted it away and stalked off taking my daughter away with him. I still couldn't find my breath, my wits, my ears and my voice. I could find nothing and I was just standing all numb with my hands freezed on the grating. Gradually the reality started taking its hands on me and it felt like a hummer bumping on my head as I heard my own blood throbbing in my temples. Mary's cries filled my mind and I couldn't keep the feeling of doom inside any longer.

Shaking the grating it felt I would throw it out of its base, ranting muffled Mary's voice, my ranting it was. My ranting and growls and howls. I turned into some kind of hysteria and one moment I even felt myself laughing a horrific laugh. Was I growing mad just as Vane? Was I going to end up with the same fate?

But there is an end to everything. The guards got tired of threatening, of beating on the grating to make me stop. One of them opened the cell and with a swift spurt he landed the hilt of his sword onto my head. I didn't even find the time to dodge. I saw awfully bright sparkles in my eyes and then pitch-darkness drowned me into its deep.

I woke and it was the daylight around. I wasn't in my cell any longer. I was outside and I was in the cage guarded by four guards.

Torres and Rogers gave up on getting anything out of me and now I had only one prospect ahead – to rot in the cage under the hot rays of the Bahama's sun.

* * *

Right now I'm sitting in the place of the smoked-up stuffy tavern and my eyes already fail to see it not swaying from side to side. The bottle of rum I'm grasping in my hand is hardly my second…it is hardly my third one. This night is not even over yet, but close to. How many night have passed since that one? Three? Four? My robe Ah Tabai returned to me is all in dried stains of blood and visitors of the tavern look at me suspiciously. And so does the bartender, but the place itself possesses such a bad reputation that he doesn't even dares to tell me a word to get out.

Some whore walks me round and leans the counter near the place where I sit. She twists her leg round mine, I raise my eyes. Maybe the look I give her makes her stop and leave me be, maybe it is the firm mask of no emotions I'm wearing on my face for devil knows how long. With a snort she stalks off leaving me glad with it. Even the thought of using her services makes me sick.

I bet you're puzzled right now. How did he get out of the cage? How's it he's free? And how did it happen he found his rest in this miserable tavern?

Just let me take one more gulp of this wonderful slop and…right, that's better. Now I'm ready to tell you everything. Now I'm ready to tell you how my life lost any sense of reason.

* * *

If this decent Brian had any plan at hand he surely failed it. If the assassins had any plan they surely failed it too.

It was irony, was it, when the next night one by one the guards watching my cage were killed without any noise made. At Tabai it was in flesh. Couldn't he come just a couple of days earlier?! He freed me from the cage and said I should find it a courtesy as he and Stefano came in here only to save Mary and Anne.

Aye, sure, and he didn't even need my help at all, of course he didn't.

He said Stefano was waiting near the boat and I got my hidden blades back. Finally I could express all my rage and despair into flooding this place in blood of my enemies. But, finding it unbelievably hard, still I realized not every guard in here was as horrible as those that guarded my cell and I held my blade away for the time. These men were just doing their job, each of them could have a wife and children and I didn't want to orphan them, this topic was so sore for me.

I held my blade…but only till I reached the inside of the prison. All the guards there had to feel the whole gamut of my revenge. I rushed through the corridors with a speed of a cannonball killing those who used to be my tormentors for long excruciating months. They all were dead and those who were not yet, were choking with their own blood.

Don't get me wrong, I tried to save my poor old friend Charles but…when I opened his cell he raised such a yell that I had to knock him out. It was a hell of a choice but it was obvious – choosing between saving Charles and saving Mary and Anne I had to choose the second and I hesitated just for a moment to press his hand one last time before I opened my own cell, took Mary's letters out of the hollow brick and rushed further along the corridor towards the women's block.

Approaching their hall of cells I heard Anne's voice. Pleads, to be precise, but I had not time to listen what particularly she was pleading for. Pulling myself up the crossbeam between the columns propping up the ceiling I made my hidden blades ready and jumping from beam to beam I stroke the guard near Mary's cell from above. The second was ready to raise commotion, but there was a spurt from the right and he was killed by Stefano before he could even draw the sword out.

Stefano grinned at me – how happy I was to see this Italian bastard - and made a gesture he'd take Anne and I rushed to Mary's cell. I was so anticipating to finally see her, but my joy was suddenly changed for anxiety. I opened her cell, she was lying against the wall and her head was down, it seemed she didn't even notice me coming.

"Mary" – I called her but she didn't respond. I rushed to carefully raise her chin up, to look at her face and it was so fearfully pale and bloodless – "Mary, it's me, Edward" – I tried again feeling on the verge of panic, but there was no answer from her.

"Edward?" – I heard Anne's scared voice – "Who's this fella?"

"It's all right, Anne, he's a friend! What's wrong with Mary?"

"She'll ill" – she answered.

"and her child?" – my voice broke. I couldn't take my eyes of my Mary whose skin was so hot that it almost scorched my cold fingers. She was alive, I saw it, her lips were trembling weakly, she slowly raised her hand to touch my wrist, but how light this grasp was…

"they took her…no idea where"

And if we didn't have enough problems that far we suddenly got another one as Anne gasped with scream and writhed in pain. Women call it birth pangs I reckon. Well that's what Anne was having. Stefano folded his arms around her and hurried up to lead her outside and I was left alone with my Mary. I had to save her, I couldn't lose her, not when the freedom was so close for both of us, not when we had finally decided there shouldn't be no reason for us not to be together.

I pulled her up and she moaned with pain. Her legs couldn't carry her weigh at all, but I thought she'd get better on the go…what a fool I was.

"Lean on me, Mary, come on" – I begged, hoping she'd hear me.

"I can't…" – she breathed out and I suppressed panic tears strangling my throat. I heard a new tide of guards breaking in from the entrance into the prison I had used myself some ten minutes ago. We had time. Trifle amount but we had. I propped her arm with my shoulder and kept pulling her across the hall and into the corridor with an exit on its end. But she couldn't stop stopping me, she was so weak and after so many days of imprisonment, implying starvation and constant beating, I wasn't as strong as I used to be. I didn't know if I'd make it carrying her all the way to the exit and to the boat where the others were waiting.

"You're all right" – I growled and sharply continued our way ignoring her hard breath and groans, but she was leaning on me like a puppet doll. We made it through the half of the corridor and suddenly she pressed her hand against the wall to make me stop.

"Stop, stop, please…"

"I ain't leaving you, dammit! Lift your arm!" – I barked. I was losing my patience, I felt annoyed she stopped me and I realized I was growing even more angrier because of the cold fear overflowing me. I was pulling her forward but she stayed a dead weight, it felt bad to make her move like this, as bad as if tearing wings off a bird or torturing a kitten.

"It's no good" – she whined, but I was too busy with propping her up and keep us moving and I ignored her. We had already turned the corner and were at the beginning of that corridor leading to desired freedom when I heard guards noise somewhere behind us, we had to hurry up. I scooped her up in my arms. I could make it, I had to.

But my each step was becoming slower, I looked her in the eyes and saw they were no longer closed, she was looking straight at me and her beautiful face expressed such serenity that I wanted to shake her up. I knew too well what this serenity could mean.

"I ain't leaving you nowhere…no bloody way"

"Put me down, Edward"

I didn't want to. I couldn't afford myself this but…my arms acted with their own will, they couldn't carry her any longer. I was fucking weak myself after long months rotting in this place.

And I did put her down.

I leaned her back against the wall and her face grimaced in pain with every move she had to endure. She breathed out, as if with relief I had finally let her be, that she was finally sitting and didn't have to move any more. I stroked her arm, I wanted her to see me, wanted to raise her spirit and make her body fight the fever…if only it could help.

Slowly, she raised her beautiful amber eyes on me and a hard feeling tightened in my chest.

"Don't die on my account…go" – she said looking entreatingly at me, but I only shook my head. I couldn't understand the inevitable…I still couldn't.

"You're such a pain in the arse" – I tried to joke, to make her smile, though slowly but steadily the realization was approaching me to sprinkle tears out of my eyes – "damn it. You should have been the one to outlast me"

"I've done my part, Edward. Will you?"

"If you came with me, I could!"

But she was dying away like a candle…so fast. Her eyes closed and her head turned to the side but I couldn't let go of her. I still can't believe it happened.

"Mary?" – I tried to draw her sinking attention and make her focused.

She opened her eyes, one last time her light-browns looked upon me with endless love and trust.

"Remember what I've told you in the last letter" – she said and I felt her light fingers running across my face as a faint smile, more of a smirk that used to characterize her, adorned her subtle features for the last time – "I'll be with you, Kenway. I will"

Her head sunk to the side, her eyes closed and breath withered.

And then I knew my love was dead.

* * *

You see now? I've lost her. If there's a phrase able to describe our story…the story of Edward Kenway and Mary Read, then the phrase is – "what a Woman's patience can endure, and what a Man's stubbornness can achieve". I achieved so much during these years of running for the Observatory and to so much happiness I could bring her I was always trying her patience instead. And how patient she was…Indeed Mary Read had a patience of an angel even that my stupidity has always been waking the devil up in her.

How I scooped the body of my breathless birdie up, how I took her out of the prison, how the moon touched her pale skin and how I put her into the boat where Anne was already sitting – is a complete blur. But I will always remember her face a second before she died, it haunts me in my troubled nightmares. I remember dimly how I returned back and killed about a dozen guards in my grief. I would have killed more if I didn't come upon decent Brian and it made me stop. What warm feelings did he had towards pirates what ambitions did drove him, but he promised he'd find the location of my daughter out, he took me to this tavern where I stay for…four days? Five? How much? The hell I don't care.

I know my only goal now should be finding my daughter. Mary would want it. But I must mourn her death first…if only I'd stop mourning her ever in my life.

A sudden slam of the door tears me away from thinking this heavy thoughts and I turn back on my chair. The man to come in is wearing the assassins robe. It is puzzling. I see him looking around, from left to right and observing the riffraff partying here. I can't see his face but even so I can conclude he seems hesitating if he even should have entered this place.

"Ahoy, man!" – I shout to draw his attention, my tongue is already hardly moving – "it seems we have some'ng in comm'n. Cloth's fr examble"

Shifting look of the man fixes on me and as if he has suddenly found the target he's be chasing for weeks by now he heads to join me by the counter.

"Rum? whisky? Wine? What d'you wan'? this is my treat this night, keep me comp'ny, man"

The man sharply pulls his hood back and I meet reproachful blue eyes of Stefano Maretti.

"Oh it's you Italian arse"

"Mio Dio, what the fuck you're doing here, deficiente?!"

"Defi…what? My Mary tried ta teach me your Italian shit bu' I lear't only grazie e prego"

"Your Mary will bite your head off when she knows where you've spent this week"

"Phah" – I scoff and take another big gulp – "My Mary's gone, matie. I saw it with mah own eyes. If you try ta mock me in sucha way that's cruel"

Suddenly Stefano grasps my collar and pulls me close so that his nose almost hits mine and he hisses.

"Che il diavolo ti porti! I've been searching you for the whole damn weak and just couldn't imagine you'll find your place in such a…such a" – he looks around trying to find a better word to describe this place and finally growls into my face – "buco di mondo"

"I fail ta understan'you, man" – I giggle.

"cazzone" – he sighs – "when you left we shouted for you to come back but you as if vanished. Her pulse, Edward, it was faint, but there _was _a pulse. Ah Tabai took her and Anne on Tulum and yesterday I got a letter our healers took care of her and it seemed she started recovering"

"What?" – I can only say not able to crack anything else out as the words stuck in my throat.

"Si, Edwardo" – Stefano bursts into smiling, scoffs, pats my shoulder and claps his hands then putting the handful of coins onto the counter – "Mary Read is alive. Now let's go and celebrate it in some better place than this…phhh…buco di mondo"

* * *

**Yeah, we've made it out of the prison! Don't know what about you, but it feels as if I myself suffered everything they got through. I know you must have felt a terrible need to punch me at some moments during reading, but I hope the ending made me better in your eyes :D I know I did it many times before, but anyways I want to thank you for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting and just supporting me, your kindness means a lot and I always feel so damn happy writing responds on your messages.**  
**Take care and till the next chapter!**

**BYE**  
**P.S. HevaBeanXD, I know blue-eyed brunette babe is just as in your story, but know that I wanted their child to look like this from the very beginning so this is my small excuse :)**


	12. More Days to Stay

**First of all: I'm terribly sorry for not updating for two weeks, I know it's hell of a long time waiting for new chapter :/ My excuses are exams and necessity to go to the other city to get the US visa as I go there for summer work very soon. Due to this I'll try to make as many chapters as it is possible before leaving, I just doubt there be a lot time for writing there, but I'll try my best, I swear. **

**Thank you all so much for reviewing and sharing the amazing warmth of your words and support! It means so much, it really does! ****I'm also excited more and more people follow and like the story, I haven't expected that, honestly, and thank you for this highly positive surprise.**

**I've made a big chapter as my apology for lagging. This chapter is special, I've been wishing to write their reunion scene for God knows how much time, since I've first played through Mary's death I reckon. **

* * *

12

More Days to Stay

I felt pain like hell. It was tearing me from inside. I've been shot once, wounded so many times that I wouldn't be able to count a precise number, but this pain was a different kind of torture – in fact it excelled my previous experience in thousands of times. It felt like it had no end, like I'd be suffering this misery forever. Between the eternal hours of agony during which I couldn't think of anything else but a precious wish for this child to be finally out, I did have one tiny thought: it used to cross my head now and then, so fast, that I managed to interpret it only on the third or fourth time and the thought was – to let a man take me drunk again…no fucking way…even if this man will be Kenway.

Even so I had no future for this to happen again. And as soon as I realized it I started thinking the other way. In my screams I swore to God I would willingly forget the life of danger and adventures, I would forget all the opportunities the life of men offer. And I would willingly accept the women fate…If only he save me somehow. Save me from the prison, from hanging, from losing this child… from losing Edward. In a feverish state I was in, I thought he'd hear me again, like that time on the island, and that he'd help me this time as well.

Maybe the holy God simply stopped accepting bargains. And maybe Edward is right and this guy doesn't even exist.

Or maybe he does.

It was pain like hell…but now it is different.

Pain? I can't tell if I can feel it right now. Probably I do, but comparing to that hellish misery I endured this one is like a feather against my skin. I open my eyes but the world is blurred. Some dark figures are moving, but their actions seem so slow to me - as if someone suddenly put his finger on the globe of our Earth to stop it, but it is stopping gradually. Voices are echoed, they barely reach my dimmed mind.

"Am I alive?" – I try to ask but hear only a distant wheeze. And it belongs to me.

The world consisted of light and dark figures against it. Now it is not. One dark figure becomes closer than all the others and it shuts the light out.

"Mary"

The pair of eyes. Dark. Stiff mouth and stripes of paint on the face.

"You're all right, Mary. You're safe. Your family is with you, we'll take care of you, try to sleep"

Sleep? But I don't need to try. Wish I could.

* * *

I open my eyes. It is a strange place I got into. Just a second before I swear I was lying in bed. In a normal soft bed, not that stock of hay I was forced to be satisfied with the latest months. I swear I heard Ah Tabai's voice, I swear I was alive…but now. Am I?

I lift myself up and look around. I would call it a coast but jungles are nowhere to start. I would call it a desert but I can feel a breeze flowing from the left. I would call it an island, but the beach is nowhere to end. The sand is purely white: no sticks, no shells to see – to mention litter is just silly.

Why am I wearing my favorite outfit? Wasn't it taken away by the prison guards? Why am I feeling so healthy? Why is everything so clear and peaceful in my head? Stop…what's the sound?

"_And all the sweethearts that e'er I had. They would wish me one more day to stay…"_

Oh fuck. No this song. For fuck's sake I hate this song but…the voice singing it…I thought I've forgotten it.

"…_But since it falls unto my lot. That I should rise and you should not…" _

The voice is heard from the left, from where the breeze is coming from. And I head there. No, the word is wrong. I run.

"…_A man may drink and not be drunk. A man may fight and not be slain. A man may court a pretty girl. And perhaps be welcomed back again…" _

The sand is deep, I'm surprised it doesn't halter my steps – I'm not stumbling. Sometimes in our dreams we feel that we run but the efforts are not enough or that we simply cannot run at all, but right now running is as simple as breathing.

"…_But since it has so ought to be…By a time to rise and a time to fall…"_

The voice becomes louder. It surely belongs to him, I can bet my life on it and I hasten speed. No matter how fast I run my breath stays steady and calm – one more thing to be surprised about and slippery doubts start to crawl into my heart. But before making conclusions I just have to reach him.

I start to recognize the blue stripe of sea ahead: waves are glittering under the sun, seagulls are chittering their usual sound – the sound of freedom, of surf and sea salt. This blue stripe is approaching fast and I hear the song coming to an end.

"…_Come fill to me the parting glass, Goodnight and joy be with you all…"_

I'm almost there, and I can see the ship moored by the shore. The ship I don't recognize but the figure leaning the gangplank is familiar. But I can't be sure, I won't believe till I'm close, till I'm able to look into this face. And it is soon to be accomplished.

Finally, after God knows how many minutes or hours of running I stop in front of the ship, in front of the gangplank and in front of the man. It feels awkward to need no time to catch my breath and by force of habit for a moment I wrap my knees giving a couple of forced coughs. I lift my eyes. The man is not looking at me, he is serenely running his fingers over the strings and it gives me time to observe his every feature as every feature of this man is so close and so dear to my heart.

"_Goodnight and joy be with you all" –_ he finally finishes on a prolonged pure tone.

The instrument finds its place on the sand by his feet and finally he looks at me. His wide smile makes me tremble, he's looking at me as if we've said goodbye to each other some ten minutes, not long years, as if he was gone to buy some food on the market and has just came back.

"Mary, I was waiting for you, love" – he says squinting with the sun and the same smile – "sorry for the song, know you hate it since my death, but I've always loved it"

"Will…how can it be?"

"It depends from what side to look"

"...what d'you mean?"

His smile becomes even wider.

"From one side we may think I'm just a product of your feverish imagination"

"Is it true?"

He scoffs and shakes his head.

"Who knows? Though I think someone just gave us a chance to see each other again, don't you think so?"

"Am I dead?"

"Not yet"

"Then it doesn't look like truth"

"You were always a skeptic"

"I was always a realist"

"Maaaary" – he drawls with a roll of his eyes – "even now you can't keep your grumpiness aside, huh?"

"I jos' don't understand"

"You will" – he makes a step closer no longer smiling but looking delicate, in the middle air between serenity and sadness – "I'll help you see"

I make a step too and his hands wrap around my waist while mine bury into his curly dark hair. And he hasn't faded away. He's as solid as the last time I've seen him. It was there, in the port of London.

* * *

To see him off I closed the tavern and travelled from the little town we lived in and to London where the ship of the royal navy was waiting for its soldiers. For my Will. I will never forget that day: it was gloomy, dark clouds were hovering over the crowded port; I was wearing a blue dress, matching the color of his eyes, my hair was tied into a common feminine style with pins and stuff and Will was wearing his navy uniform. There were so many couples around, saying their own goodbyes. And as many couples were there that day, as many women have lost their sweet hearts after.

Familiar soldiers, with whom I used to serve in the Navy before Will and I got married, were sending me salutes, but soon there were only I and my husband left near the gangplank. We exchanged the last words, the crew was hastening him, we didn't have any time left. We kissed, he promised to come back very soon and retire from the navy to handle the tavern and settle down with me forever. His hands lingered on my stomach, that time we thought I was pregnant. He kissed me again and this time was the last. He ran up the gangplank and onto the ship joining the other men of the crew leaning the decksides and waving goodbyes.

And I was waving to him, as long as I could see the ship and my heart was heavy.

* * *

And now he's here. We're standing near the gangplank and so many years have passed.

"I missed ya" - I hear my sob, the tight knot of feelings inside my chest became even tighter. He strokes my back.

"There, there…no tears, darling. I know how hard it was for you, saw everything, was always there with you"

Through tears I give a laugh.

"How could you, Will, I would have felt it, don't be silly"

"Shhh…don't grumble" – he whispers.

For a while we're standing like this. If this is a dream then I don't mind it to last forever. If I died…well, maybe death is not that bad after all.

"Will! How could you die for fuck's sake?!" – my fist gives a hit on his back – "You promised me!"

He slightly draws back, his face is serious.

"I'm sorry" – he says and adds much quietly – "I'm so sorry, but there was nothing I could do"

"I thought I'd die mahself"

"I know. Dying so far away from you was also a nasty crap. Especially just after we got married…I thought we had a long happy life ahead, I'm sorry"

He leans down and his lips capture mine. I thought I'd never feel the taste of his kiss again and I close my eyes dissolving in it. Aye…maybe dying is not that bad. But he draws me back, it makes me frown. Now his face looks stern and determined and tenderness he puts aside. Why?

"Mary, I know you're baffled with meeting me here, but I need you to remember reality"

"Is this not a reality?"

"This is my reality, not yours"

"I don't understand"

"Patience. You gave birth to a child, do you remember that?"

My brows meet as I'm trying to recollect my memory. I remember something like this, remember the prison and the screams, and _his_ hands carrying me towards the desired freedom. But it feels as if everything happened in a troubled nightmare and that only now I'm finally awake.

"Mary" – Will hurries me – "do you remember?"

"I do"

"And Edward?"

"Aye"

"Good. Then there's still hope"

"for what?"

"for you to have a choice"

"what choice?"

"look, over there, just make several steps to the left. Yes, just like this. You see the men on board the ship? Whom do you see there?"

I screw up my eyes trying to recognize them. Five men are sitting by the table, celebrating something. I make several steps to step up the gangway and see them better but Will bars the way with his hand.

"No, no, dove, no closer"

"Why?"

"Patience. Tell me who these men are"

The men turn to us and finally I recognize them and to say I'm astonished means to say nothing.

"Thatch" – fearless Blackbeard breaks into a familiar sinister grin as I say his name and salutes his drink to me, and so do the others as I mention them – "Ben Hornigold, Stede Bonnet…" – I halter and say with a sigh – "Emily…even fucking Jack Rackham…what the hell are they doing here, Will? What the hell is goin' on?" – I look at him.

He encompasses my waist – "now listen carefully, Mary" – he gestures at the ship and at the jolly company sitting there – "you may join them there if you think you're ready, though…" – he scoffs and grimaces – "like fuck you are" – before I could roll my eyes and say something protesting he continues. This time he gestures back, at the length of endless white sand from where I came from – "and you can come back, which is more preferable"

"Come back? Where?"

He gives me a long serious look – "you understand between what and what you're choosing?"

I'm still frowning, but I guess I start to get it.

"between life an' death?"

"Smart girl" – he smiles.

"Don't call me that way"

He doesn't respond on this, his lips only tremble in a funny way showing he's hardly suppressing a scoff. But he gets over himself and continues – "you choose between staying alive and sailing away into the unfurrowed lands with me; and I think the decision is a piece of cake"

"Will…"

"don't" – he stops my upcoming stream of words with a calm motion of his hand – "You have a daughter now, don't forget that, and you have a man loving you, dove"

"I'm sor-"

"don't" – he cuts me short once again – "I bear no hate towards him. Nor towards you. I want you to be alive and be happy, you see? We'll meet again one day and believe me it's not today, it's too early. The choice is of course yours, but I'll never forgive you if you go with me right now"

"that sounds…odd"

"I know. But that's what I mean"

"my daughter…is she all right?"

"she is, you'll find her, dove. You two will find her"

"An' Edward…"

"He's a good man. He's never been stupid or cruel, he was just blind. But now he's not, believe me"

"Are you seriously not mad about the whole thing with him and-"

"no, Mary, I'm not" – he smiles encouragely and my fears fully fade away – "You two are tied together by destiny. Your paths intertwine. Your unity will put in motion a chain of grand events that would happen in future. The destiny of you, of him and of your descendants is already predetermined"

"Fuuuuck" – I growl – "stop talkin' riddles, Will! And you've said I have a choice by the way"

He smirks.

"Everything is predetermined already. The future is static. Your choice is predetermined as well"

"but how?"

Will shakes his head, throws a disturbed look at the sky and looks back at me – "now's the time, dove, the sun is getting low. We've been talking too long. Now go"

But Will"

Will rolls his eyes and only carefully pushes me back in the direction of the sandy desert.

"Go now, choice she has, a-ha" – he snorts smirking.

I look back at the endless sand ahead and then turn back to meet Will's blue eyes upon my face. Yes, the choice is obvious. But it doesn't mean it gets less beater. Will spreads his hands.

"One last time?" – he smiles.

"One last time" – I smile back and walk into his warm embrace. My heart is aching and unwanted tears cover my eyes as I breathe in the smell of his hair – "love you, Will"

"Love you too, dove" – his gentle whisper into my ear. He tears me away from nestling into his shoulder, one last time our lips meet in light and tender kiss and he makes me loose hold of him. I sniffle, he wipes tears off my faces and smiles – "now go, Captain Read, and be softer with Edward Kenway, he may be seem strong, but he has a sensitive heart"

"I know" – I make an attempt to smile but fail it and add – "you've always been much stronger than I am" – I try to make a step closer again but he shakes his head with a firm expression and pushes me back.

"no" – he simply tells – "go, Mary. The time to say goodbye is over. Go"

What else am I left to do? I give Will one last look. He encourages me with a confident smirk and slowly I turn back. One step, two, three, four, five, ten…and I turn back to him.

"Will!"

"Mary?"

"Will I remember this?

"Hmph…" – he sighs with a look of thinking on his face – "Doubt it, dove, but maybe something will stay, though the chance is tiny. Go now! How many times do I have to repeat?"

"I'm going, I'm going" – I smile back. Then look at the ship again – four men and one woman are waving me and I wave them back as well.

The sound of guitar is resumed, but I'm not looking back. I've made my choice and I must go. The Parting Glass is heard again, Will's voice accompanies me back into reality and soon I find myself running. The deep white sands devours the noise of my steps, the low sun paints everything around in gold, the desert ahead becomes blurred – everything around becomes blurred but Will's voice staying clear above it all. I run and run until I see nothing but the fuzzy gold color all around, run until suddenly a green flush eclipses the whole space. And I disappear out of the place.

Or maybe the place disappears out of my head.

Who knows?

* * *

Will.

I open my eyes. Sharply. One moment I was deep asleep and then I'm already lying with my eyes open wide, staring at the ceiling of twisted reed and fern. Bright sun penetrates through the tiny patches in the walls and the roof. It looks like Tulum.

I try to move, to move to the side and my every cell echoes with dull pain after long lying without any motion. The feeling is as if I've been drinking non-stop for a week. But I know I wasn't. It was much worse. And it appears too much for me to accomplish such an easy task of changing positions. I stop trying and let my body fully relax. There's a sound of someone breathing by the bed and I turn my head. I've been longing to see Edward there, or Anne, but the grey-haired woman who is sitting on the chair by my bed is hardly looking like either of them. Her eyes are closed and she's sleeping leaning the back of the chair. I've seen her before. Definitely it is Tulum.

"Hey?" – I'm trying to draw her attention but hear a croak that doesn't sound like my voice. I give several coughs trying to clear my throat and try again, now successfully – "hey?"

The woman startles. She opens her eyes and seeing me looking at her smiles.

"Mary" – she lifts herself from the chair and comes up to me – "finally awake"

"I am. How long have I been passed out?"

"Five days" – the woman answers while checking my forehead – "you had a terrible fever, it was a hard battle, you were at the threshold of death door. Don't try to make sharp moves, Mary, no. See, your temperature is normal now, you just need time to recover. But you will be fine"

"I can't imagine lying a plank for so long" – I grumble but my body leaves me no other alternative – "but I guess I must be happy I'm alive an' should jos' shut up, do what you tell me, right?"

The woman's smile becomes wider.

"Right" – she answers wiping my face with wet fabric and shifting to continue the procedure with my whole body. It is cool and it feels so good.

"What's your name?"

"Leandra"

"You're an assassin? I guess I've seen you before but M'not sure"

"I'm not an assassin, but my son is. I'm a nurse, doctor to be precise, though men's authority allows no women to carry such a rank. Edward Thatch hired me and took from Kingston when they got a cure from the decease reigning over Nassau, I had to help in healing the people there, and I did. When the island fell into hands of soldiers, when Edward Thatch died, my son took me to Tulum, he was worried I'd be brought to trial for helping pirates" – she kept telling while wiping my body – "I've heard a lot about miraculous healers living here and was honored when they let me work with them, opened their secrets" – she stops her work and looks at me, her face is very kind, reminds of old good fairies in children's books – "They did a miracle with you, I would never make it to do it myself" – she winks – "but I've been helping"

"Thank you, Leandra"

"Oh don't be silly, Mary - no need. Now let me help you to sit up"

She supports me, props me up a bit and with a terrible effort I take a sitting position. Everything's aching but most of all my breast and I silently curse to my nose. All the memories come back to me and suddenly I feel all empty inside.

"I'll go bring you some food and we'll talk then, all right, Mary?"

"Right" – I answer absent-mindedly.

She leaves. I'm left alone with my memories and I don't like it, they swoop upon me in a blink of an eye, I can't distract, no fucking way. And even if I could…would I want to distract? The swarm of questions shoots past my head, making me feel a nasty feeling in the heart. Where's Edward and where's my child? Where's Annie? Is Edward alive? And is Annie alive? What's with her own child? Where's Edward? Where's he? Why is he not here?

God, yes. Someone enters the hut I'm lying in. I don't have to go through all this alone, someone will explain everything to me. Someone will surely answer my question. I'm more than sure because this someone is Ah Tabai. I see him coming up to my bed, and it makes me stronger – my friend, my mentor, my guardian…my father. I haven't seen him for about two years, from time to time I've been thinking I had to visit Tulum but then something else took my attention and the visit was delayed. Again and again. Probably because deep in my heart I felt anger at Ah Tabai, hated him for telling me those words the last time we met, when I came back from Florence with Stefano. For telling me those words about Edward…it pissed me off. And all the other members of the brotherhood pissed me off precisely because they all hated Edward Kenway. The lack of time was just an excuse not to visit my home. And I knew that even if I didn't wish to confess it to myself.

And now there's a guilt I feel. Though he doesn't seem to be blaming me for anything.

"I thought we've lost you, Mary" – he says sitting down onto Leandra's chair and dragging it closer to my bed – "The whole brotherhood have been praying for your recovering"

"Ah Tabai, m'sorry…for everything"

I'm waiting for his usual firm stare, but instead I find a smile. It makes his face look younger. And it lightens the heavy guilt.

"Mary, you're still young" – he simply says – "the thing is that sometimes I forget about it, I got used to relying upon you, you and your wisdom, extraordinary for your age. I didn't like your obsession with pirates, they have always been distracting you from the creed. And so I didn't like your next obsession with Edward Kenway. He has been distracting you as well. And that time I thought he'll distract you so much that you decide to leave the brotherhood forever. The man was unbelievable" – Ah Tabai shook his head with clear wonder, of what I found in him maybe. And what did I find in him really? It was something from the heart. Ah Tabai continues – "though now I think differently. That Edward Kenway I saw in Port Royal changed my opinion. Now I realize-…"

"Mentor, m'sorry to interrupt you, and I'm so relieved you bare no anger towards me any longer, but let's get to the point – Where's he?"

Ah Tabai gives me a long look which is hard to interpret. My heart sinks.

"Is he alive?" – I gulp down brokenly, not noticing my voice has risen to the sour note – "jos' tell me. The truth even if it is painful. I need to know the truth, tell me everything, Ah Tabai, please, don't spare me"

"Shh, Mary" – he stops my hands and rests them on my stomach as in fear I've drawn them to cover my mouth – "calm down, he's alive"

Oh God if you exist – thank you; if you don't – thank you anyways.

"Then where the hell is he?" – I say much calmer. The mystery of why Edward hasn't been spending days and nights by my deathbed is now puzzling my head. I feel I'm selfish…but I feel such a pity for myself at the moment.

"He thought you died" – Ah Tabai answers.

"what?"

"he took you out of the prison and to the boat where we were waiting – Stefano, miss Bonny and I – your body did seem lifeless, Mary, don't blame him, there was scarce breath and the pulse very week. He put you into the boat, I myself thought you were dead. I gave him an assassins robe, thought you'd like it and he stalked off of the shore. So fast that he was already out of reach when miss Bonny discovered your pulse and breath. I sent Stefano to find him and we had to sail off if we wanted to save you, so that's what we did"

"Stefano was left there to search for Edward?"

"Yes"

"Was there any news about them?"

"Yes"

I wait for his following words, but somewhat he keeps telling nothing, just looking at me with a smile.

"So?" – I hurry him up and he as if startles.

"I'm sorry, I just still can't believe Mary Read is alive" – Ah Tabai excuses and gradually smile wipes down his face – "Because if you died I would blame myself for it, for not saving you in time, till the end of my days, I-…"

"We'll talk about why you've been so fucking slow in taking me out from that hell later" – I cut him short. I don't want to be rude, but this sudden strange softness of Ah Tabai's usually firm and restrained nature lags his answers – "any news from them?"

Ah Tabai squints his eyes for a moment, then it seems he's pulled himself together.

"I've sent Stefano a letter of your recovering as soon as it was clear you're out of danger. The answer came today – they found Adewale and the Jackdaw and now are heading back. Several days more and they will be here"

I feel my lips forming a smile.

"With Emily?"

"Whom?" – Ah Tabai furrows his brows.

"My daughter"

"I know nothing about it, she wasn't mentioned in the letter"

"With her, M'sure" – I insist with certainty – "if Edward would waste so much time away then certainly jos' to find out daughter, M'sure"

But Ah Tabai looks unconvinced.

"Mary, he thought you died" – he reminds me.

"M'sure" – I cut off. There is no other way. I'm sure.

I doubt I've convinced Ah Tabai in that though. I see he doesn't continue this topic just not to trouble me, not due to some other reasons. The light gets dimmed and I throw a look on exit. It is Leandra back, she's standing in the entrance blocking the main light source away, but having a bowl with something in her hands. This something smells nice.

Noticing her too, Ah Tabai gives me a smile, presses my hand with his one last time and lifts himself up from the chair.

"You should eat well, Mary, restore your energy"

"Huh, what are you talkin' 'bout" – I give a tired scoff – "It seems I'd eat an elephant from ears to tail"

"We don't have elephants, but there's surely the most delicious stew you've ever tasted" – Leandra leaves the entrance and heads over to me in confident gait. She turns her head back for a moment – "don't worry Ah Tabai, I'll take care of her. From what I've heard of Mary Read I think soon I will need to tie her up to bed for her to keep bed regime"

Ah Tabai scoffs. I keep my mouth shut not telling what I really think of being tied to bed. It won't be polite, and this woman did so much to me with all the other healers.

"Try to sleep a lot" – Ah Tabai tells at parting and leaves the hut.

Leandra tries to start to spoon-feed me, but I snort and take the bowl myself. Not without resistance, of course, but at last she gives up and lets me eat myself.

I'm hungry as a hunter and the stew is truly amazing so I'm devouring it with the utmost zest. Leandra is talking about things on Tulum and in the world whilst, what happened while I was in prison. I start to scrape out the ends of potatoes, carrot and meat out of the bowl feeling pity the meal is over. When have I last eaten such a nicely cooked food? Definitely not in good old Port Royal.

"Want more" – I inform Leandra, but she clicks her tongue negatively.

"No, Mary. You haven't eaten normally for months, your stomach won't tell you thanks for it"

"It is asking for it right now"

"Shush, girl, don't argue"

"Shush?" – I throw her a wry look pouring the last tasty liquid into my mouth and licking my lips with content – "phah"

Leandra ignores my grumpiness, only a slight smile shows she's heard me.

"How are you feeling?" – she asks instead.

I sigh – "awful" – look with anguish at the empty bowl she's taken away from me.

"What disturbs you most?" – Leandra ignores my look and checks my forehead one more time, just to find the temperature is still normal.

"Breasts" – I answer without a moment of thinking.

"It is normal, you've got to be feeding and your body informs you about it. Too much milk that is all. It will be better in a couple of days when your body gets used to…."

"It doesn't have to get better" – I snap but seeing Leandra's face I try to soothe my sharpness –"M'sorry…but Edward will come back the other days. With Emily, it's my daughter. And everything will be as it should be. It doesn't have to get better"

"I see" – the woman says peacefully as if nothing happened – "try to sleep, Mary"

She helps me to fully lie down and returns to sit on her chair, starts tinkling with knitting needles. We keep silent for a while until suddenly I remember about one thing and it makes me totally guilty I haven't asked about it yet.

"Leandra?"

"Yes?"

"Anne, the woman whom Ah Tabai took on Tulum with me…how's she?"

Needles stop their tinkling, a small pink sock finds rest on the woman's lap. Leandra looks at me.

"She's fine…physically, but emotionally…"

"What d'you mean?" – I frown.

"Her child has died. A boy. Hasn't lived through the night. We couldn't save him"

* * *

Two days passed and I'm able to walk. With help, very slowly, but even if tiny - it is a progress. Leandra and two other healers concluded there was no danger over me, no longer. They even said I'd be able to have more children if I ever want. To be honest, I haven't even thought about it, to be honest I've been thinking only of my one and only child – of my Emily with dark hair and eyes like ocean. His eyes. Her father's eyes.

He'll bring our Emily back to me and we'll go back on Inagua, together. We'll settle down there, just how he wanted. Why is every hour is so fucking long and boring?

When Leandra allowed me to go out of the hut, I wanted to finally find Anne. And I found. The woman helped me to go up the hill and Anne was there – leaning her back against the grand tree, sitting by the hillock, freshly covered with earth, she was silently and lonely mourning her loss. Fragrant flowers surrounded the small glade, they were as bright as Anne's face was pale. There were no flowers in her hair like she usually wore them and she looked as if she died herself. Inside.

I came up and for a moment her eyes distracted from nowhere she was staring into.

"Mary" – she said – "I'm glad you're fine" – her lips curved as her eyes shifted away as if she felt guilty just looking at me – "m'sorry I didn't come to you…didn't visit you I was just…"

I sit on my knees in front of her, took her hands in mine as we used to do so many times before the prison. The flow of her words stumbled, she bit her bottom lip but didn't make it to hold herself back. In a moment we were already hugging each other, and crying.

* * *

The fourth day since I've defeated the fever. The fourth day and he's coming back.

I'm half-sitting half-lying on my bed, I still can't make long walks and I'm just waiting for him to appear in the hut. Some ten minutes ago one of the assassins broke into and brokenly catching his breath told me the sails of the Jackdaw were spotted.

My first thought was to run. No matter how scarce my energy was but my heart urged me to run, to make the distance between Edward and me as less as I only could. But my wishes didn't go on the account and as I tried to lift myself up Leandra stopped me.

"I really can do this, Mary, believe me, do you really want him to see you tied up to bed, girl?"

It made sense and I stopped trying.

And now I'm waiting for him. All alone in the hut – that assassin left as soon as he fully caught his breath and Leandra tactfully stalked off some five minutes ago.

"Not to disturb the happy reunion" – as she said.

My heart is beating as if I've been running for hours. I check my clothes, make sure it is clean though if it wasn't would he even notice such a trifle? Check my reflection in the small round mirror lying by my bed – seem to myself pale as a ghost, so tired even that I've been having a good sleep but comparing to what I've seen in the mirror some four days ago it's much better now. Comb my hair feeling so stupid. The waiting is killing me, I'm going crazy and restless. My hands are constantly searching to take something, to fiddle with something. Minutes are dragging on slowly. Where's he? Will he bring Emily with him? What will it be like? Honestly, my life was much easier before I met Edward Kenway. It was simple – sailing, killing targets, helping Ben and Thatch built Nassau, enjoying life. And now…

Usual noise of noon is heard from outside: birds are tweeting, random people are talking, hens are cackling, goats are bleating, until…the sound of someone running very fast, tramping and raising dust on the path. Voices outside become louder, the sound of heavy feet is drawing near. For a second I can hear breath, no lighter than the feet of their proprietor, it is becoming closer. I try to lift myself up, manage only with lowering my legs and my bare feet touch the floor. I'm looking at the entrance, waiting for him. If it is not he, I swear I'd crash this hut into pieces.

But it is he.

"Where's she?" – I hear his loud, choking voice from outside – "which hut?"

Someone must have told him as I hear the heavy steps drawing very close, and breath too. Closer, just a moment more and…

And he breaks into the hut. Edward Kenway.

When he appears inside he feverishly looks around, air comes out of his lungs in broken gasps, blue eyes find me and he somewhat freezes on the spot. I lose my breath. Feel I need to say something, open my mouth but having no idea what to do further I shut it back. It seems the time stopped running, and we're just staring at each other. I can't take my eyes of him, I thought our days were numbered and I'll never see him again and now…

What a milksop I've become.

"Mary" – he finally manages to say and his voice is hoarse as if he's forgotten how to talk – "Mary"

Maybe this is stupid but I feel there's nothing I'm able to do, nothing I'm able to say and I'm just staring with my eyes opened wide. Staring how he makes a step towards me, another one and then in one swift spurt appears sitting on his knees before me embracing my bare legs.

"Mary" – he whispers and I notice his body slightly heaving.

There's no sound following after, just his heavy breath and my rare sniffs. I feel moisture on my skin, there where he's holding my legs pressing his forehead against my knees, but I pretend not to notice it. He's back and I feel my strength restored as if I couldn't be whole without him. Now it's fine. Everything's gonna be fine. We've survived. We're both alive and this is the only thing that matters.

I run my fingers through his tangled hair and watch how scattered light is playing on the blond strands. Enjoy how they are touching my skin. Fiddle with them trying to calm him down, to set his troubles at rest.

How long do me spend like this? I don't know, but it feels like heaven.

Finally he raises his face, brushes his lips against the skin of my legs and puts his stubbled chin atop my knees facing me.

"I can't believe you're alive…it feels if I let go of you you'll fade away"

"I won't"

"Promise me?" – he slightly smirks but becomes serious at once.

"I promise"

My hands are still in his hair but I find his forearms and make him rise from his knees standing up myself. I fold my arms round his neck and nestle into his shoulder holding him as tight as my strength allows. His smell - the scent of rum, salt, sweat, sand, fire and fried fish – I can feel it and it is beautiful. Edward sighs. Squeezes me tighter, his breath tickles my neck, stirs my hair. I lift my face.

Our eyes lock and I start to slowly cover his face with kisses. And he starts too so that soon we're scoffing and laughing banging against each other's noises.

"I love you, love you so much…" – he manages to say in between kisses – "never, I will never let you go, never leave you, never"

I'm only laughing, laughing with tears in my eyes and he slightly shakes me up.

"Stop saying nothing, stop it, tell me something, tell me, Mary"

"What can I tell ya" – I'm giggling dodging my eye from his lips – "I love you, pork"

"Pork?" – Edward widens his eyes in affected offence stopping bombarding me with kisses for a moment – "Pork you say?! I'll show you pork, mean one" – he grins and shifts swift kisses to my neck slowly pushing me towards the bed.

"Hush, easy please, everything's aching, I don't think M'ready for it"

Edward lifts his eyes, now his offence is not affected.

"Who do you think I am?! I wasn't going to bed you, wasn't even thinking about that, I'm just so happy to finally have you in my arms, wasn't going to move any further, don't you know me, Mary?"

"I know you, aye, better than anyone else, sorry" – I excuse stroking the long scar crossing his cheek and exploring his face better – "you look like shit, Kenway"

"And you look beautiful"

"A-ha, course"

"Seriously, you've never looked more beautiful to me"

"I love you"

"Say it again"

"I love you, love you, love you, Edward Kenway, love you so much that…"

He never finds out the rest, swiftly captures my lips with his, for the first time in so many months. I feel as if the air around us is slightly cracking with tension, at least that's what my skin senses, like if we're kissing for the first time, but at the same time his lips are so habitual and home.

Slowly I draw back, look at him, smile and snuggle up to his chest, his arms tightly lock me in.

"I want t'go home, Edward…after all this hell in Port Royal, I jos' want t'go home. With you. With you and Emily. It's a miracle we're standing here right now, both you and me. No more piracy, no more dangerous scrapes. I jos' want to settle down, with you. And raise our daughter. Please, take me home"

"I will, to Inagua" – he answers and suddenly I hear there's no smile in his following words – "you'll be recovering living there, but I will join you only some time after"

I raise my eyes.

"What? Why?"

He doesn't give me an answer, shifts his eyes and I frown.

"Edward, where's Emily?"

No answer still.

"Edward!" – with my finger I move his face and make him look into my eyes.

"I…haven't found her yet"

His face changes under my look. Changes significantly. I must be looking intimidating.

"What have you been doing all this time while I was fighting for my life here?" – I utter in one threatening tone – "I thought you've been searchin' for our daughter, if not what have you been doing then?"

He doesn't answer but doesn't shift his look as well.

"Mary, I…" – he finally say but I strictly cut him short.

"Were you drinking?"

"A little bit…" – he starts but gives up under my squinted fierce stare – "lot"

I keep piercing him with my stare, my lips are tightly shut, this time air seems cracking with a different kind of tension. He's enduring my look, fully, and it pisses me off how he dares to still be looking into my eyes after coming back without our daughter. I know he knows he's in deep shit. I know he knows he's not right and I know it tortures him. And still he dares to look into my eyes.

His lips quiver, form an apologetic smile. I slap him.

"What?!" – he resents touching a hurt spot – "Mary!"

"Get out of here" – I growl coming back to my bed – "and return only with our daughter"

"You can't really mean this"

"I can" – I say feeling on the edge – "and I mean"

I make myself on the bed, cover up with blanket and send Edward a tired look. He seems to have pulled himself together but I see he's not finished yet. More words to come. And they come.

"I thought you were dead. You can't even imagine what it is, I thought I'd die myself. There wasn't a minute I wasn't thinking of going and finding a pretty nice rock to fall down from, Mary. To suppress this I had to drink. And drink a lot. Everything to make the pain for you just a tiny bit lighter. Everything to, the fuck, just shut my heart up. You don't know what it is"

For God's sake, of course I don't.

I glare at him.

"Aye, Edward, of course I don't know. How can I? I've never lost mah husband, how can I know, huh?! But listen to one damn thing that is freaking far more important than this: imagine your child, you little blue-eyed daughter being in someone else's hands all this time. The chances are she must have been fed by some slaves all this time, living with them an' the authority of prison has already decided her fate. Children born in prison are sold out very quickly. And every shot you've been drinking was driving her further and further away from os. Can you imagine where can she be at the moment, huh? You can't, you don't know, because you've fucked things up like you always do! I've counted on ya, had no doubts you'll do what is needed to be done, had no doubts you'll come back to me with Emily and now you come in, hold me and kiss me saying you love me and then informing me that our daughter is the fuck knows where! Are you fucking kidding me?! I don't want to see ya. Go and find Emily and then maybe I'll forgive ya"

"Mary, I…"

"No"

"Mary, let me explain, I just wanted to see you first and…"

"You did, now get the fuck out!"

I send the bowl standing by my bed into the air and into his face. Edward dodges the blow and the bowl breaks into fragments. Loudly. So that Ah Tabai and Leandra immediately appear in the entrance to see what is happening. I turn to the side putting a dot to the conversation that is more of a quarrel now.

"No, no, it's okay" – I hear Edward assuring them. He lingers for a moment, then I hear his steps leaving the hut. Close my eyes, bite my lip feeling tears coming. My breasts are still aching badly.

He hasn't brought her back. Where's my girl? Where's she right now? When will I finally see her? When will we come back to the white house on top of the hill? When will we finally come back home?

* * *

He's come back at night. I'm not sleeping, I'm thinking, about everything. My blood has already stopped boiling, I can think rationally though emotions still prevail in me –can do nothing about it. I've already started regretting my today's flash of anger. Especially after Stefano has told me everything I didn't let Edward tell. He told me of decent Brian helping them all the way, that this Brian that used to be such an ally in prison, has found out my Emily was bought by some woman from Kingston. By some woman whose name is Corinne Dufour.

It was a long day for Edward. Stefano told me he decided to finally become a member of the brotherhood. There was a battle against Templars and Edward took an active role in defending the island. I haven't heard it myself, slept it away, but Leandra told me everything about it. They also told Edward went through the initiation and was now our official brother, he was training with Ah Tabai the rest of the day.

I hear Edward taking off holsters, putting aside guns and swords, clanging his belt and pulling down his pants, taking off his shirt. He knows I can't stay angry with him for long. He knows me far too well.

The blanket moves, the bed creaks under extra weight, Edward folds his hand around me, snuggles as close as possible. There's a kiss on my shoulder I feel. I turn back to face him.

"I didn't want to wake you" – Edward whispers and just in case draws a little bit back – "I hope you stopped wanting to kill me?"

"Don't worry" – I find his hand and return it back embracing me – "but I won't be saying sorry, you know you've fucked this up, you know you're not right. But if we want to live together we have to learn how to solve problems without brawling"

"Aye, you're right…" – he makes a pause just to give me another sweet prickly kiss – "You can't imagine how badly I want to find Emily and bring her back to you. But I couldn't go off searching for her without seeing you first. I just…just needed to make sure you're indeed alive, needed to see it with my own eyes"

"I understand. I missed you too"

"So good to know you're alive"

"Anne has lost her child"

"I know talked to her today"

"She was still by that tree, by his grave?"

"Aye, we talked a lot, I think she feels a bit better now, I tried to make her remember who she is, how strong she is and that her friends will always be with her in the darkest of times"

"M'proud of ya. And I've heard you joined the brotherhood, I've been dreaming about it for years, so glad you finally see things clearly"

"It was a long road, but we've made it – you and me" – Edward rubbed my shoulder – "you know while drinking" – he gulps down – "while thinking I've lost you forever, I used to think of how much troubles I've brought to you during these six years I know you. And how patient you've always been" – he smirks – "I mean – yes we have always had the hell of fights but still…you never left my side. You always came back"

"You won't believe how many times I wanted to forget ya and hold mahself from coming back but…it's in the past now, isn't it? Let's forget that"

"Aye, let's focus on present" – he gently runs his hand over my stomach and for a moment I close my eyes enjoying his care. Could I imagine something like this will ever happen to me?

"Will you find her? Our Emily?"

"I will. I swear"

"I miss her…such a strange feeling. It doesn't matter I've spent jos' pathetic ten minutes with her and nothing more. I'm jos'…missing her. Want her to be near. To protect her. Seems you were right…we all have it inside – parental instincts"

"I feel the same…and she's beautiful, I still can clearly remember her face"

"You've seen her?"

"Aye, Brian carried her, he haltered by my cell and I saw her. Your hair and my eyes"

"Such big blue eyes…"

"Aye"

"It was horrible. Just gave birth to her - such a torture - then fed her and they took her away at once, I tried to beg, tried to shout but they jos'..."

"Don't think about it" – Edward cuts me short – "don't recall those days, rub them off from your memory, we'll have more happy days, like this one, but with our daughter. When you'll get a bit better I'll take you to Inagua, you and Anne, and then I'll set off to find Emily. If she's with Corinne its fine, it won't be a problem"

I smile, move to the other side, press his shoulders so that he appears on his back. I let him carefully drag me into his arms where I comfortably curl up resting my head on his chest and throwing my leg over his. Just like it should be. My fingers start to absent-mindedly play with sparse hair on his chest, drawing lines over his tattoos; his fingers start to absent-mindedly wonder up and down my thigh. Peace. Finally.

"Edward?"

"Hmph?" – he hems showing he's listening.

"I love you"

"finally you accept it"

"won't you tell me you love me too?"

"Huh, now you want to hear it? Know what? I've told you already, if something changes I'd let you know"

"Pork" – I scoff reaching for his lips.


	13. Good Old Treatment

**I'm back! Sorry, but no matter how hard I tried to give birth to this chapter faster I found myself in the middle of some sad depressed mood and just couldn't make it well, everything I've been writing appeared too sad and depressed itself. That's why I had to wait for my mood to get better and then finally I've made it. I hope you'll like this chapter and thanks everyone for support once again!**

* * *

13

Good old treatment

The beach. Here, ashore, there's no usual fuss happening before setting sails: members of the two ships are whether already aboard, whether preparing, pushing the boats and giving the last handshakes to each other before leaving.

All but one tall frail figure. And I head over to her.

* * *

Aye, it's the day we leave Tulum: Mary, Annie, Stefano and I. It's been five days since I arrived, that's precisely how much time Mary needed to stop feeling dizzy just standing up. These days of her recovering I filled with trainings, I thought she'd like that and she did. Usually I took her to the training area, to the wide glade near the assassins' village, where they held fighting practices. She would sit there on the grass approvingly looking at me and I would merge into training – learning from elder assassins and teaching younger ones. Sometimes Anne would join Mary, we always asked her to come and it seemed to help her. Color returned to her cheeks and lips, as well as flowers appeared in her fiery hair anew.

But they both changed. I couldn't but see it. I couldn't but notice certain badgered expression in their eyes. Maybe I had it too, I wouldn't contend that. But I could get over it. And I did after finding Mary. But she couldn't. No matter how strong she tried to seem. Maybe for everyone around she did seem the same siren Mary but…I know her far too well.

For as much time as I know her, for as much time as we've been friends, then lovers, then friends, then lovers again, we used to have one stumbling block in our relationships. And precisely it was a wish to suppress each other. Both strong mentally by nature we have always tried to somewhat break each other, make one of us yield, let one take the desired dominance.

For now it seems the dominance is on my side, though I do believe soon things become normal again, as soon as Mary gets better and we find Emily. My siren is just depressed, so much changes in such a short time and we both nearly died. I'm not surprised her fighting spirit is a bit tamed for a time.

* * *

"Hey!" – I come to Mary from behind and wrap her waist with my hands, place my chin over her shoulder. She startles, but only for a moment.

"Pfffff…Kenway, don't do that again, ya've scared the hell out of me" – she grumbles, but puts her hands over mine keeping them pressed to her.

Actually I'm a bit surprised. It's been time I couldn't sneak up to Mary without drawing her attention. No way. It seems she got surprised with this too.

"I was jos'…thinking"

"I know" – I give a slight kiss on the back of her head – "no problem" – I follow her look.

There are two ships nearby: My Jackdaw and The Prancing. Mary doesn't take her eyes off the schooner. He truly looks beautiful under the sun – hull sparkling with gold, rearing horse on the bow and bloody red sails to finish the scene. Mary's pride.

"Want to set off on the Prancing, don't you?"

She doesn't shift her eyes, leaves my question unanswered. Then gradually tears her look to the Jackdaw. I can see how contradictive thoughts are fighting in her head. From the Jackdaw to the Prancing and back. She bites the edge of her bottom lip. From the Jackdaw to the Prancing and back. And her face becomes firm as she lifts her chin up. She made the decision.

"Nope…think I'll better go on the Jackdaw. With ya"

"Thank you. You won't regret it"

And we head towards the boat that will take us aboard. And no one would say how hard the decision was for Mary. No one would ever understand that choosing between the two ships she was actually making much more important decision:

She was choosing between independence and me.

No one could see this, but I did. And I saw the choice she made.

* * *

It took us almost a week to get to Inagua. The week during which Mary and I quarreled thoroughly. Better say she's been sulking and I've been trying to restrain my temper and keep a straight face. What was the reason? Well, Mary was insulted that I've been constantly trying to feed her. Somehow my intention to make her fully recover, my care, pissed her off.

Before we left, Leandra took a sacred promise from me that I'll be looking after Mary's diet. It means her everyday's meal must have been diversified and consist of such products like cheese, nuts, meet, fish and butter. The healer said, after giving birth and then intending to be feeding, it is very important to eat these products in little portions every day. I still felt a bit dizzy hearing all this pregnancy-birth-baby-milk-feeding stuff, but still I treated my role seriously.

Mary has never been plumpy but she always had a solid stature, she has always been…slender. And now even I can't doubt she has lost too much weight. Too much for a healthy person.

If not I, then who will force Mary to follow healer's recommendations? I know her, she'd just brush it away and "hell with it".

So literally I didn't let her leave the cabin until she ate everything on her plate. And she seriously didn't like that. Once even tried to throw a plate into me. She missed the aim. And I told her she had to eat a lot for her blow to become stronger and reach me. And she threw another plate. It seems I'll be having not one child but two.

The second reason was nap time. I forced her to sleep at noon while she wanted to spend this time on deck, talking with the men of the crew, chatting with Anne and Stefano, steering the ship or simply sitting under the sun staring at her Prancing sailing beside.

Aye. I was right thinking her fighting spirit was tamed just for a time. Because once we left Tulum and she felt the breath of sea on her face, in her hair, she seemed to become good old grumpy Mary again. Just like I expected and wanted. That softness that appeared in her after prison and giving birth… it was still here, but toughness too – these two traits somehow mixed in her making her totally unpredictable. One moment she would agree with everything I say and then some ten minutes after she would become arguing and contradicting her own words she had said before that.

We irritate each other so much lately…Irritate and at the same time want to be near. It's a hell of a mixture. I love Mary. I truly do. But we argue on every point and her not willingness to get used to my care pisses me off. She said we have to learn how to solve problems without brawling – now she's just contradicting herself again.

Well…I hope she'll get used to me taking care of her. After all I've never been thinking loving Mary Read would be easy.

* * *

"So, we leave tomorrow, amico?"

"Aye, one night here and then off for Kingston" – I evenly answer taking a gulp of rum.

Stefano sighs. Makes a gesture for a pretty fair haired wench to repeat his drink, takes a flower out of nowhere and when she comes over and leans to his mug he swiftly tucks the flower into her hair. Rosy petals go well together with light strands, the lass shoots him a flirty glance while her cheeks start to get the same rosy shade as the flower's. She smiles cutely playing with dimples on her cheeks, exchanges playful words with Stefano giggling constantly. I'm watching this all gloomily and with certain lenience. Several years ago I was the same. Used to get hooked on such pretty but shallow-minded lasses. But then I met Mary. Or better say _she _let me meet her.

"Melanie, bring me beer, please" – I interrupt them and the lass squints at me with displeasure.

"Oh, Captain Kenway, you're no fun since you came back with Miss Read, ain't she knows how to make a man happy?"

"M'happy" – I put an end to a topic – "Infinitely"

She shrugs with innocent face, gives a wink to Stefano and leaves to fulfil the order. Stefano is watching her ass swaying off. I'm watching just a bit.

"Davvero, Edward, your sour face spoils all the fun"

"I'm so sorry to spoil your evening" – I say with sarcasm.

"Apologies taken" – Stefano answers without it. He takes a gulp of rum watching the people by the tables, when he looks at me again, he sighs, rolls his eyes and leans closer – "oh bene… Where's your Mary? Why is she not here and why are you here if she is not?"

"She's at home. Said she wants to be around dear walls and wouldn't mind if I decide to spend evening somewhere else" – I snort.

"Quarreled again?"

"Aye…she's crazy lately. A bit tired of this"

"Depression…She nearly died and her child was taken away from her"

"_Our _child, Stefano, _our_. But she behaves as if I don't give a shit, as if Emily is nothing to me, as if she's the only one to be missing her"

"And is she?"

"Of course not!" – I explode and draw attention of several nearby tables – "I want to find her and take back home as much as she does!" – several visitors keep staring at me and I look at them – "What are you gaping at? Can't a man have problems after escaping prison for God's sake?!"

I get what I want - the men turn back to their drinks and talks - I take another long gulp. Stefano purses his lips in thinking. Finally he drawls:

"Why don't you use a good old treatment for depression?"

"What d'you mean?" – I mutter.

Stefano makes a meaningful look slightly tilting his head.

"You know what I mean, amico"

I furrow my brows.

"eeehm…nope"

Stefano sighs as if he has to deal with a complete idiot and draws closer lowering his voice.

"You know…you, Mary…letto"

"What?"

"Bed" – he says normally and settles back on the chair – "or table. Or wall, carpet, stairs, banisters, crow's nest…whatever. Don't know how you two like it"

"Crow's nest?" – I shoot my brow with a scoff.

"crow's nest, si" – acknowledges Stefano.

"You had it in crow's nest?"

The Italian's grin speaks louder than words and my brows go even higher.

"Not really comfortable though"

"Phah, can imagine" – I can't suppress a laugh.

"But don't tell Mary, she'll skin me if she knows I did it in the crow's nest of her ship, she loves that place" - he suddenly becomes serious.

"Oh no, don't worry" – I keep laughing – "Your secret will die with me. Just curious what lass could agree on climbing up the ratline and then up the mast to do it in crow's nest" – I take a gulp of beer.

The Italian looks embarrassed, I see my words made him nervous, but he tries to keep a straight face.

"Segreto" – he says firmly and gets back to his drink. I think spending more than two weeks in Stefano's company significantly affected me as now I can understand perfectly clear whatever he says. Well…almost always - "Edwardo, let's forget I've even said that, we've been talking about Mary as far as I remember, not about my sex life"

"Fine, fine" – I brush away in between gulps – "you don't want to talk about it - we won't" – I yank head up and finish the bottle thinking that during our way to Kingston I'll surely make Stefano crack and find his little dirty secret out – "so…Mary"

"Si, Mary"

I put the bottle aside and rub the bridge of my nose – "not to make a secret – I've really been thinking about…making us both a little bit happier to put it mildly but…" – I throw look at the bar counter thinking that maybe another bottle of beer will make it all easier for me. And kick the thought out of my head with a shake of my head. I sigh – "…we haven't found Emily yet, I'm afraid she'd be feeling guilty to do it while our daughter is hell knows where" – I finish still rubbing the bridge of my nose – "moreover we bark at each other all the time. I can't understand why she keeps showing her claws…we found each other, decided to settle down, raise our daughter and become a normal family. She told me she wants it, told me herself and now she behaves like I did something wrong though I couldn't think of anything to feel guilty about"

"Edwardo" – Stefano exclaims gesturing ardently – "we both know of whom we're talking about! It's Mary Read, diavolo ti porti, famous captain Kidd and siren of the Caribbean. Do you really can't understand what is going on with her? She was free as the wind, could go wherever her heart wanted and now she is tied! Her behavior doesn't mean she doesn't love you it just means that she realizes living a normal life with you excludes her usual habits of being free as the wind and going wherever she wants. That she would have to be doing boring women things like cooking and cleaning without having a chance to sneak away and enjoy sailing. She loves you, loves your Emily but she doesn't know how to change her ways. She's trying but she can't do it so fast and your constant hovering over her with your care only makes it more complicated for her. Just give her time to switch over and it will be fine" – he finishes and makes a big gulp to wet his throat after such a long lecture. I wonder how the hell Stefano made it to understand my Mary better than I could.

"Aye mate" – I drawl and tilt my head showing his words convinced me – "did she tell you this all herself?"

"Non Mary" – he twitches his lips negatively and rubs his dark stubble – "one pretty red-haired bird. Though I haven't told you this, chiaro?"

"Chiaro. Let's think I've figured this all out myself. I think we'll never manage to fully understand what women understand naturally, huh?

"Davvero"

"Anyway" - slowly I lift myself up from the chair – "It's late for family men. Time for me to go. Womanizer…" – I comradely pat Stefano on the shoulder – "have fun. Be ready by the morning"

"phah, you talk like my father what will it be after ten years of married life then?" – Stefano scoffs – "good luck, Edwardo" – he salutes me with his bottle – "and think carefully of my suggestion"

"I will"

On my way out of the tavern and then down the pier I meet Anne. She smiles at me, tells Mary's fine, that she went to sleep, and then the red-head passes further. I reach the town and just for a moment, just out of curiosity look back.

Just in time to notice Anne waiting for somebody near the Jackdaw, just in time to see this somebody appears to be Stefano walking out of the tavern. They exchange several words, Stefano wraps her waist with his hand, Anne clings to him and together they head over towards the Prancing.

* * *

Our sweet home on top of the hill meets me with windows filled with welcoming light. Even the small lantern on the porch is lit reminding me that I'm waited here, that this house is no longer just mine. How I longed to see it all that time I was in prison, to see my manor with Mary waiting for me inside.

I open the door, put out the light in the lantern and enter the house. The floor is clean, the table in the big hall purely reflects the golden chandelier above and not a speck of dust is to be seen on numerous pillows of chairs and sofas. Bright contrast to what we faced when we arrived at noon. As I've been expecting Mary devoted the first day at home, and the time I've spent in the tavern after our quarrel, to cleaning. I can't help but smile at this.

I take the bowl with fruits adorning the center of the table, send a grape into my mouth and begin putting out the lights to then finally walk up the second floor. And do the same there.

I peep into the room Mary used to occupy while living here but don't find her there. I do find her in my own room, and it encourages me, elevates my mood. I was afraid she would try to drift apart after all of our recent quarrels. But now _my_ room became _ours_.

One single candle standing on the table by my side of the bed is illuminating the room. And Mary's back. The night is hot and so she is sleeping covered only with a thin sheet. Though I can't see her face I can say for sure she isn't pretending. Her sleep is tranquil, chest peacefully rising and falling. I put the bowl on the table and swiftly handle with my clothes staying just in my short underpants. Look at Mary.

_Maybe I shouldn't do this? Maybe I just need to lie down beside her and sleep? _

Contradictive thoughts are fighting inside me until I suppress all the doubts. I have to leave her in the morning. God knows for how long. And we have to sort everything out before I go, to clear the air and get rid of all these doubts and uncertainties.

And so I slide into our bed, reach for the sheet covering her. Suddenly I become totally curious of what my Mary is wearing at the moment and with this thought I feel hot waves of arousal begin rolling in me. Very carefully so not to wake her up prematurely I raise the sheet.

Mary doesn't disappoint me. She is wearing one of my shirts, precisely the best one, made of the finest flax that looks amazing on her naked body. And her skin smells with lavender soap. It seems the house wasn't the only point in her cleaning list today.

When did we last have it? Nine-odd months ago? I long for Mary, crave for her. With every second I feel the need stronger and stronger and I already can't resist temptation to touch her.

I make myself on my side behind Mary, half-hanging over her, my hand reaches for her thigh and strokes her. Up and down. She mumbles something in her sleep, clutches the pillow tighter, but doesn't wake up and so I go further. This time, ascending, my hand slides the edge of the shirt up revealing Mary's neat white knickers but doesn't stop and goes even further – slowly running over her hip, waist and sideline, right up to the back of her neck and then returning back caressing her every curve. The touch is endearing. But hungry. Too hungry not to wake her up.

I sense the tempo of her breath changing, it becomes clear she is in the midstate between sweet drowsiness and fully waking up. I reach for the bowl and take a grape, bite a half leaving the other half for Mary. Slowly I take the piece to her mouth, softly touch her lips with sweet pulp, slightly press and her lips part to take it in. She bites it through, I hear the juice burst under her teeth and when she gulps it down she reveals a soft smile. Biting the half of another one grape I repeat the whole process. And again. And again. Until I see how Mary slowly runs her tongue over her lips and then predatory bites her bottom lip still having her eyes shut and saying nothing. And I understand I'm too hungry to wait any longer. In fact I have already waited too long for Mary Read to be finally and absolutely mine.

I cling to her, move disturbing black strands aside and start greedily kissing her neck and upper back while my left hand keeps stroking her hip and side and belly.

I keep kissing her. Reach her ear, start sucking the lobe, then slowly lick inside and soon I get what I'm waiting for. Mary gives a moan. Silent, more of a sigh but that's enough. She still has her eyes closed, pretending to be sleeping but only a complete dunce would believe in it.

I make Mary lie on her back, raise the shirt to her neck and for a while I'm just admiring her body. Maybe the moment becomes too prolonged…

"Kenway, why stopped?" – Mary mutters drowsily and finally opens her eyes.

"Weren't you sleeping, huh?" – I smirk.

"How can I if you don't give me?" – she grumbles with a smile – "so what? gonna watch mah body the whole night? That's why you woke me op? If so I've got more interesting offer"

"Do you mean something particular?" – I pretend a fool.

"Aye" – she answers huskily and reaches for my hands, leads them up her body and rests them on her plumpy breasts. I smile contently. Pregnancy has at least two prominent benefits and I start to knead these benefits from under her hands, but carefully, lightly, I remember Mary's recent complains of breasts aching. Her breath becomes broken, she yanks her head back onto the pillow and closes her eyes.

"Before we start…" – I softly interrupt her pleasure and she half-opens her right eye – "Mary, I want to know if everything's all right with us?"

She doesn't answer for a while, I'm no longer kneading her breasts and just wait for her answer. In a moment she sighs, lifts herself up and the lap of her shirt immediately falls down, she takes a sit on her knees in front of me and looks into my eyes rubbing hers.

"And what made you think something's wrong?" – she says and her palms lazily slide up my abs and chest, encompass my shoulders and strokes the biceps on my arms – "Everything's pretty well by me. We jos' need to bring Emily home"

I choke with my breath as suddenly Mary's hands pass to stroke something…_lower_.

"I…" – I give a snarl trying to focus myself. If I thought telling Mary into making love tonight will be difficult I was surely and utterly not right. But experience tells me - for me undressing Mary's body is far more simple than undressing her heart – "I couldn't but notice your attitude lately…as if I did something wrong and you're sulking. If it's because I force you to eat well and sleep well so that you recover faster, then what's wrong with that? I care for you and I can't just say "don't eat Mary, exhaust yourself, I don't even care if you die". In your letters you told you want to settle down with me, and so the same you said when I came for you on Tulum. What's wrong then? Have you changed your mind?"

In a moment's pause Mary seems caught off guard, she drops her eyes and when she looks at me again she is frowned and her glance is heavy.

"It's…complicated" – she purses her lips – "I don't even think _I_ can sort it out, not to mention explaining this to you" – she looks into my eyes firmly – "but I haven't changed mah mind, Edward. I wouldn't be lying here, in your bed if I did. I wouldn't have been making your house a normal place to live the whole day if I did"

"_Our_ house" – I insist the same firmly – "_our_ bed"

Mary smiles.

"Our" – she agrees.

"Mary" – I return the conversation back to main topic – "It won't be good for Emily if her parents will be constantly quarreling. And _I_ don't want to be constantly quarreling. I want us to be happy"

"I know but" – she stumbles as if trying to pick up the right words to explain something to me. Something that she can barely explain to herself. Finally she blurts out – "think I'm a bitch, but I better tell you this, don't won't to conceal anything from ya. I… I choke with your care…and feel such a bitch shutting you out. I understand I shouldn't act like this but can do nothing 'bout it, I just blaze up at once everytime you try to make a fuss over me. I understand I need to let you take care of me cause I don't want you to change and be hen-pecked in our family like the bunch of stupid men who become absolutely weak under rule of their dictator wives. I want you to stay the way you are right now, cause right now you're perfect" – I can't keep a grin and Mary squints at me - "don't make such a face or I'll never tell you any compliment again" – I try to make my face serious, don't really think I make it well but anyway after rolling her eyes Mary continues. She takes my hands in hers – "I want you t'stay the same strong and I…I think the reason for my nervousness lately is that M'trying hard to make myself feel comfortable behind your shoulder, you see?"

I make a long sigh and free my hand to rub the bridge of my nose. Everything's like Stefano said.

"Mary, love, I'm glad you think so cause all I want is us to stay as we are until the very end. But don't think I've ever had an intention to suppress you, I haven't" – I take her hands back into mine – "I fell for siren Mary Read and I don't want to change her"

She drops her eyes. I frown. Somehow my words took a different effect upon her than I've expected.

"Mary, what's wrong?" – I lift her chin and in astonishment watch her golden eyes oddly glitter. Her lips twitch as she's trying to keep emotions but the sob gives her away – "Mary, love-

"But I've changed, Edward!" – Mary explodes – "Can't ya see that fucking Port Royal changed me?! M'not that strong anymore, not that strong siren I've been and I'm ashamed of myself! I hate being this loose and soft! I hate this and I'm afraid if I let you see this you'll cool off me! That's the real reason!"

I'm abashed by this sudden storm of emotions and tears keep running down Mary's face skirting her pretty scar and dropping down onto her chest. For the first time in my life I see Mary truly crying and to tell the truth I don't know what to do. But… where did she get this bullshit into her head?! I stretch my arms to hold her but she brushes them away.

"No. I disgraced myself enough for t'day. Don't take pity on me. I don't wanna feel even more weak. I'm already enough repulsive to mahself"

Beautiful. I don't even notice raising my voice to a growling shout and now it is Mary who looks abashed after my stable composure.

"I can't even express how stupid you are, Mary! Haven't even heard more foolish bullshit in my whole life, it's considering I had to deal with Vane and Rackham a lot! How could you even think such a trifle will make me stop loving you?!" – I look at her with accusation – "How could you start shutting me out because of this?! Know what? It only shows that you don't trust me and it offends me!-"

"No don't put it this way!" – she exclaims.

"How can't I if that's how it looks, Mary?!"

"Edward, please don't-"

"Don't?!" – I shout indignantly – "I thought we've sorted it out, Mary, and now it appears you shut me out again! How can I call it but not trusting me?!"

"Stop, please, listen to me, Edward, I beg ya!"

I breathe out brokenly, but when I speak again my voice gets calmer. I'm just tired.

"Mary, it's scandal again…" I rub my forehead. Then look at her. She looks desperate and I give her a long look. Wave my arm and sigh – "bring it on"

"I have nothing in this world but you" – Mart gets to the point at once and swiftly wipes her face with the back of her hand. Something as if breaks in me – "It's not that I don't trust ya, Edward, it's that I'm terrified I may lose you. I won't…" – she sobs and then rolls her eyes growling – "here it goes again!…all sniffles and tears!" – she flings her arms and new tears draw wet lines on her face.

"Hush…" – I stretch my arms for her and after a moment of thinking she clings to my chest with a burst of crying sobs coming. Her body is shaking and I'm slowly petting her back. I'm just glad she finally gives way to emotions and lets me in again, that we again have this mental intimacy that I missed so much. I was afraid we lost it – "feelings don't make your weak, Mary. Emotions don't make you weak. You've got through so much that any other woman would have already cracked, but not you. If you cry sometimes it doesn't mean you get weak, love, and I _want _to be the one with whom you can share your feelings. I _want _to be the one siren Read is vulnerable with. Just let me, please"

Mary is not shaking any longer, she draws back, wipes her flushed eyes that make a good match to her nose, and looks into my eyes.

"Okay" – she says quietly, sniffs and hugs me.

"get this shit out of your head and be yourself for fuck's sake, Mary, please"

"Okay"

Muffled music and random drunk shouts are heard from the tavern down the hill. Crickets are chirring in the night and a loud meow of the cat that has found her kittens a shelter in the attic tears the silence disturbed only with Mary's rare sniffs. Finally she sighs and draws back.

"And where did we stop?" – she asks half laughing half sobbing and I grin.

"Somewhere here…" – I lean to Mary and she tilts her head left as I start to kiss her neck.

"No…" – she sighs – "not there, Kenway. Somewhere here…"

Her hands adroitly untie the tape that keeps my hair in a small bun, her fingers pierce into my hair, she makes me lift my chin and starts to cover my jaw with kisses. I feel sweet waves of arousal coming back as her kisses make me lose the track of time and events. Then her lips find mine. They are still salty after tears.

"wanna board me, captain Kenway?" – Mary manages to say in between kisses.

I grin against her lips.

Kissing, we feverishly get rid of her shirt, of our underwear and Mary pushes me so I lie on my back. She straddles me, takes a slice of mango from the bowl I left standing on the bed and passes the fruit from my chest and down, till the very end and licks the juicy path all the way so my mind simply refuses to work when she finishes.

I make her bend to my face and we keep kissing for some time, with the same crazy mixture of tenderness and passion we used to always make love with, and when I enter her I press her tight to me so that she won't draw back, won't intercept my dominance, so that all the moves are only mine. Her breath scorches my ear and soon her feverish moans fill the silent house. She gets her satisfaction very fast, I can hear it according to her moans becoming louder and then suddenly withering.

I keep moving in her, grappling her thighs and breathing the smell of her skin as Mary is nestling into my neck and clasping the sheet behind my head. Her breasts are slightly brushing against my chest and I pass my hands from her thighs to her waist and then slowly to her hips so that soon her broken breath passes into moans again. Mary faces me with mouth opened in sheer ecstasy just as mine, she groans my name like some wild cat and we exchange feverish lines of how madly we love each other until I start moving faster and we can't speak anymore. The bowl with fruits falls to the floor. I begin to snarl and Mary's moans are getting louder and louder, they end with a broken scream of pleasure and Mary claws at my shoulders when we reach our heavenly climax together.

For some time we just lie without motion. With my head absolutely empty I'm stroking Mary's back and feel her lips pressed to my neck. The last light of the candle dies away. Darkness. Warm, peaceful night. Light wind flowing from the window, it flutters curtains and plays on our bodies. We pull ourselves up to pillows and I hover over Mary to kiss some more.

"Stop. What's it with ya back?" – Mary breaks the silence. Her hands carefully but imperiously make me rise from her and she props herself up getting a better look at the long pale scars fully covering my back.

"A gift from Torres and Rogers. Don't worry, its fine know, a bit ugly but…"

"Shhh" – Mary cuts me short. She draws her face closer and her lips slide along each scar leaving soothing kisses while hands wrap me from behind and hold me tight.

"For everything they did to os" – Mary tells coldly – "we'll kill them all"

* * *

In the morning Mary is seeing me off. Is it because of what happened at night or because of the beautiful weather but the sadness of parting seems not as bitter as we could expect. Her eyes are shining bright and smile rarely leaves her since the time we woke up. I feel encouraged, feel finding Emily won't be a problem. Feel only happy times are waiting us ahead. It seems like all the troubles are long gone. They stayed there. In the past. In Port Royal, may the God blast it with lightening.

Stefano and Anne are quietly talking by the Prancing's gangplank. Everything is ready – provisions loaded, sails unfurled. Crew is waiting only for the captain. And the captain can't have enough of saying goodbye with his dearest lass. Even more dearest to him than his ship.

"You have a week, Kenway" – Mary says cockily, wrapping her arms around my neck – "jos' one week and if you're not back I sail the Jackdaw for Kingston mahself"

"Mary, we've discussed that"

"Anything may happen t'you there, soldiers are still hunting for your head"

"It's not a problem. They would be waiting for captain Kenway on the Jackdaw but will meet captain Maretti with pure reputation coming on his ship The Prancing"

"I wish I could go with ya" – Mary tells for the thousand's time already.

"Recover here, worry of nothing and think about me. I'll take our little Kenway back, be sure about it. No. Don't look at me like that, nothing wrong will happen. If you'd want to distract yourself handle the fleet, sort out the books, remind captains their boss is back and they can't steal from my business any longer. Make inquiries of Torres' and Rogers' location. And you have a tavern also, I'm sure the week will pass fast, you won't even notice"

"The empty bed would be a good reminder" – she says with a bitter scoff.

"Just a week, love, think of how busy we'll be then, with Emily. Enjoy peace while you can" – I lean to her ear and whisper – "think of how great it will be when we finally meet…"

"You're right…" – slight shudder breaks through Mary – "when have you become so wise?"

"I had plenty of time to think, remember? I'm not blind now. Not anymore"

Mary squints somewhat oddly with my words. Light browns get thoughtfully dimmed as if looking though me for a moment. Then she wrinkles her nose.

"What? What's wrong?" – I frown – "Feel dizzy? Let's go sit then"

"No, no, its fine" – Mary swiftly shakes her head and several beads bang against each other – "It's jos'…strange feeling…as if I've heard it already"

Just as I want to answer I'm interrupted with Stefano who suddenly comes to us and destroys our privacy.

"My dear dear Mary! Don't you miss my humble persona!" – he impudently moves me aside and swoops upon Mary with bear-like hugs so that I get worried he would break her ribs. Anne comes up to giggling.

"Stefano" – Mary gasps – "Do I look like your favorite teddy bear?"

"Hey, hey, mate" – I interfere as this hugs last too long already – "distance, please"

"Mamma mia, aren't you jealous?" – Stefano teases breaking loose of Mary and looking at me with challenge.

"No, I'm worried about health state of my only child's mother"

"Was it a strong embrace?! Want me to show you the strong embrace, amico?"

"Oh no" – Anne chimes in – "don't do it on public, boys"

Both she and Mary can't keep a laugh so that Stefano and I only exchange dark ironic glances clearly interpreting as a sigh "women…".

"So!" – Stefano rubs his hands – "the parting time is over. Know you two, if we don't stop you you'll be saying goodbye the whole day. Am I right my beautiful Anne?"

"Oh" – Mary makes an astonished face and shoots her brows at me – "his, heh?"

Anne's cheeks suddenly match her hair. Mary and I exchange meaningful glances. We've already found time to gossip about mystery of Anne's and Stefano's relationships. Mary got surprised as while Anne had always shared everything with her, she hadn't told her best friend about such a thing this time. Aye, girls surely have a lot to talk about after our departure.

"Stop exchanging looks like two old gossip hags!" – Anne exclaims – "we've come to hurry you up, enough of clinging to each other, doves, it already looks nasty"

"Nasty you say?" – Mary smiles a mysterious smile. She takes my hand not looking at anyone; her eyes are directed at the wooden planks of the pier as we are coming over to the gangplank of the Prancing where sailors immediately get interested with us coming. I am watching her wondering what she is brewing as her face clearly tells she _does _brews something.

"Mary? What are you doing? You think you'll sneak onto the ship and no one would be able to take you back?" – Anne screams catching up with us. But this isn't Mary's intention.

She stops just by the gangplank. Sharply. Suddenly. So that I'm not prepared for her next actions. And what actions do follow…

My siren faces me, swiftly wraps her hands round my neck and rashly draws me down, to her soft lips. She kisses me so greedily and passionately that the crew at once bursts into whistles and encouraging shouts. Her right hand slides down to my face, rests on my jawline while her amazing tongue has almost made me forget what the heck I'm doing here, on the footsteps of leaving the island, instead of being in our bed and continuing success we've put beginning to at night.

But everything good has its end. Mary draws back with a smack. I'm not content with this. I lean down to her to delay leaving for several more minutes but get unprepared to her next actions again. She adroitly sneaks away from me, somehow breaks loose of my hands and steps back on a distance. Safe distance from me.

"I'll be missing you. Take our girl home"

She tells and rashly leaves the pier followed with thunder of applause.

* * *

Getting to Kingston wasn't a problem. Formally, Stefano was a captain. But actually the captain was I for the real captain was Mary and she lent me the ship for this voyage. Well, actually hell knows who's the captain of this beautiful schooner as formally Mary lent The Prancing to assassins and they made Stefano the captain here but considering recent events. Aye. Hell knows. But I doubt Mary would be content with absence of her ship for long so we need to get rid of Roberts the sooner the better and then clear the air about the Observatory thing, so that she could get her ship back. Permanently.

Well, _they _need. Even that I've become an assassin I don't really dream of following Ah Tabai's orders. I want to get my daughter back and then stay with my new family on Inagua instead of wondering over the Caribbean like a rolling stone kicked with the brotherhood's will. Too long I thought money is the most important thing in the world, I owe Mary too much for making her wait for my insight for so long.

And at any rate in life of every man there comes a time when he understands that he wants no more of danger and adventures, but that a warm dinner, beloved woman in his bed and little child in the crib is that what he needs. I came to this realization in prison. When I thought everything's lost. But we have a change for everything to be a thing now. And though I can't hide it I'm nervous of having a child in my life I understand we'll cope with everything. Mary and I. Thinking of our future I imagine holding hand of our daughter, telling her millions of things, showing her how beautiful this world is…aye, I want it.

We still owe decent Brian one thing, but he keeps telling nothing of what he wants from us, why he helped us in prison even though he keeps accompanying me all the time – first in voyage for Tulum and now in voyage for Kingston. What does he want? Be a pirate? Hmph...

Stefano tells me nothing of Anne though it isn't a hard thing to understand they're united not only with friendly attitude towards each other, but with bed also. Aye, _"letto"_. Why they make such a big secret out of it, I won't know. Well, their right. By me it is clear Anne needs a distraction after Jack, Port Royal and her boy's death. And Stefano became this distraction. I'm only worried it may pass into something more serious for Anne, and Stefano is a known womanizer, so I guess we'd need to talk if we want to avoid further problems in the future. I don't want Anne to be hurt. She had already had too much pain for her soft heart.

And so we reached Kingston. There wasn't a problem with passing the check in the port. Stefano is pure as a child in the eyes of both Spanish and British authorities. He told his name, paid for mooring, showed the load of sugar and rum while I quietly sneaked out of the ship in my assassin's robe. Unnoticed. Great. Everything was going great. Until I reach Corrine's brothel "The Royal Pleasures". As soon as the woman saw me her ayes became round and face guilty. I understood everything was more complicated than I had expected. I understood right now I would have to write Mary a letter and tell her why I will have to delay coming back to her.

All because our Emily had been there. She truly had. But the thing is that she was there no longer.

* * *

**Another confirmation of women's strange logic, hah. And finally we had a Kiddway hot scene (no thoughts of Israel, neeeeveeeer again).  
Till the next time!  
**


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